


wish by spirit and if by yes

by midnightluck



Category: One Piece
Genre: Casual Violence, Gen, Well that escalated quickly, dumb ASL bros being dumb, koala is better than you, the ASL family and their many many many issues
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-07
Updated: 2017-10-16
Packaged: 2018-06-06 21:17:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 29,275
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6770227
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/midnightluck/pseuds/midnightluck
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mostly, Sabo likes his job, even when it means trying to chase down pirates like Whitebeard in the New World to discuss important Army affairs. Okay, maybe especially then. </p><p>Reunion AU where Sabo's a little shit, everyone’s happy, and yet some stuff still hurts.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. dumb bros being dumb at each other

**Author's Note:**

> this is a self-indulgent bit of pointless fluff and technically the little bit of plot that's there doesn't even make canon sense and i'm not sorry

“…never seen him before,” Thatch is saying as Ace meanders by. “He’s just some blond kid with a top hat.”

Ace blanks for just a moment, and his lungs stutter against an inhale. He’s heard those words framed like that too often, if not recently. It isn’t possible, though, so he blinks it away and breathes steady.

But he can’t stop himself from asking, “Who is?”, deceptively calm as he joins their conversation.

“There’s this guy from the Revolutionary Army here,” Thatch tells him with a small nod of greeting. “They send someone over to talk to Oyaji every now and again.”

Marco nods. “He’s one of the main powers on the seas, and is generally against the World Government, so we have something of a casual acquaintance with the Revolutionary Army.”

“And this guy?” Ace prompts, because he couldn’t care less about anything else right now, no matter how much he hates the World Government and the Tennryubito and nobles in general, and Marines, and most people, really, and—

“Some kid,” Marco says like he’s being helpful, which no he isn’t.

Thankfully Thatch can always be depended on to talk. “We’ve always had the same lady in the past,” he explains. “I guess she was getting pretty old to be chasing down pirates, so we were probably about due for a new guy, but he’s real young and dresses funny. I mean, who wears a coat when it’s this hot out?”

“Huh,” Ace says, as cover for the roiling nausea and anger in his stomach, and casts around for a distraction. “I don’t know much about the Revolutionary Army.”

“No one does,” Marco replies with a small half-smile. “That’s kinda the point.”

“Yeah, that lady came on board every so often for as long as I’ve been here, and we still don’t know her name,” Thatch says, and there goes that clue. “They’re an Army led by Dragon, and are aiming to take down the World Government. There, you know everything I know!”

“Dragon?” he asks anyway, ‘cause that name sounds familiar.

“Monkey D. Dragon,” Marco says, and catches something out of the corner of his eye. He frowns, waves them off, and heads over to deal with whatever the problem is, and Thatch takes over.

“Real mysterious guy,” he explains. “Most wanted man in the whole world, more’n any pirate could hope to be, and I hear he has some real crazy tats across his face.”

Ace has his own face back under control by the time Thatch is trying to trace said tattoos in the air. Suddenly Ace has an answer to a mystery that never occurred to him, and he mentally shrugs and slots Dragon next to Garp in his folder of ‘related to Luffy, should be respected but never thanked.’

And he keeps this in mind as he moseys on, leaving Thatch talking to thin air. He wonders vaguely if he should hunt down this Revolutionary Army contact or try to avoid him entirely; surely the guy won't hang around for very long. He sees Marco heading back inside and thinks he might as well follow for now; he can always decide later.

The point turns moot, though; as he follows Marco inside he sees a silhouette of tailed coat and top hat that’s almost familiar coming up from belowdecks.

“Hey, you,” he calls. The stranger uses his momentum to shift his trailing boot back and sideways and spins on the ball of that foot to turn to three-quarters profile, head tilting and fingers coming up to rest on the brim of the hat.

It’s an easy turn into a balanced pose that can be greeting or curiosity or distraction, and Ace knows that move like he knows breathing—deep and quiet and instinctive.

There’s some crazy shit on the Grand Line, he thinks, and cold-cocks the bastard.

* * *

 “Hey, you,” someone calls behind him, and Sabo figures it’s for him. Everyone else on this ship knows everyone else’s names, after all, so he turns, curious.

There’s a guy about his age, about his height, and wearing an orange hat coming at him. The face is a bit familiar, he thinks absently, and then the guy starts the most obviously telegraphed punch he’s ever seen.

But something about _that_ face with _that_ anger throwing _that_ punch makes him blink and not dodge, and he takes the blow right on his chin. And the impact clicks a little something loose, and something shifts, and his mind goes, _oh yeah, this is_ Ace.

It is his brother, and his brother’s grown up _good_ , he notices from the floor. Same stupid haircut, same ever-burning rage, same dumb freckles, only now they’re on a taller, broader frame with a few new—

His eyes catch, and he _laughs_.

* * *

When the blond brat points and laughs at Ace’s tattoo instead of getting up, Marco just sighs. There are less painful ways to commit suicide, he thinks absently and not for the first time, and begins shooing people away.

They go, because those who haven’t seen Ace lose it over his tattoo have seen the fallout, or at least heard the whispers. No one wants to be in range when Ace goes calm and quiet, when Ace asks them to repeat that, when Ace goes focused supernova.

“Sh—shut up!”

That’s…not the anger he was expecting, and Marco turns back and has to blink. He’s seen Ace embarrassed before, or thought he had, but it must’ve been passingly because he hadn't known the blush went all the way down.

The kid on the floor’s laughter is edging past hysterical, but he gasps and gets enough breath back to say, “You’re a _sap!”_

Ace is many things, but Marco is pretty sure he wouldn’t’ve named sappy among them. Yet Ace’s blush is creeping even further down past his collarbones. “I _ain’t!_ ” he hisses, flapping his hands around pointlessly, and Ace is a really bad liar. “And _you’re_ still wearing a napkin!”

Marco glances back at the kid, but he isn’t? Well, he has a cravat around his neck that kinda looks like one, he supposes.

But then the kid carols back delightedly, “Yeah well, _you’re_ wearing _my name!”_ and waves a hand around towards Ace.

Ace is scowling, but he moves forward to grab the kid’s hand and pull him up anyway. “I ain’t,” Ace says again, but it’s quieter and even less believable. “Who said anything about you, dummy?”

“So you misspelled your name, is that it?” the kid asks, full of amused disbelief.

Ace opens his mouth but he’s stuck, because Marco has no idea what the tattoo is for but he knows it was deliberate. So, “shut up,” he says instead, and then attempts to squeeze the blond’s lungs out.

When they start clinging and murmuring in each other’s ears, Marco decides enough is enough, and he clears his throat loudly. The entire encounter has been odd, but seeing a stranger hugging Ace as hard as Ace is hugging back is just _weird_ , and also he’d really like them to stop blocking the doorway.

* * *

They end up in the dining hall because if you let Ace decide where to go, he will always pick ‘towards food’.

Turns out, the blond kid can match pace with Ace on eating, and Thatch almost cries. “Where do you all come from?” he sobs, waving his arms wildly. “I can’t make the stores stretch for _two_ of you!”

The kid at least has some semblance of manners, though, because he swallows and wipes his mouth before he tells Thatch, “Be grateful our third isn’t here. He eats as much as the two of us combined.”

Thatch stares at him in blank horror and sinks down to sit beside Ace. Ace’s appetite alone beggars belief, but that there’s someone who can match him? That there’s someone out there who can double it? “Not possible,” he moans and drops his head to the table. “Noooooooooo.”

“Thass righ’, I fohrgo,” Ace says, then thankfully swallows before adding, “We could sometimes split the big ones, but Luffy always had to have his own.”

“Remember the time he ate that entire bear by himself?”

“And both of those gators we caught.”

“Tiger Lord.”

“Oh, man,” Ace groans, “that one was a mess, remember when we dragged the skin back and Gramps was there?”

“No, I don’t, because I worked really hard to forget that,” the kid says. “I don’t remember how you left me behind ‘cause I couldn’t run and I had to face him alone. I really don’t remember how the wound I got protecting your dumb self made me bait. I forget entirely his reaction to the blood all over Luffy and how he took it out on me. Nope, not at all.”

Ace winces. “Awwwww,” he straight-up whines, “now c’mon, that’s not fair, you threw me to him as a distraction plenty of times!”

“Not while Luffy was hurt I didn’t!”

“Who even are you?” Thatch finally asks, and Marco sits down on Ace’s other side with yet more food.

There’s a brief scuffle over the new plate, and then Ace says, “S’my brother, Sa--”

The kid pushes the bone hanging out of Ace’s mouth further in ‘til he chokes on it. “Rules mean I can’t tell you my name,” he says, and eyes Ace warningly. “But I am, unfortunately, this dork’s brother.”

* * *

There’s murmurs around them, and someone’s asking Ace about them, but the food on offer is phenomenal and Sabo’s intent on eating as much of it as he can get before Ace devours everything. He generally is good about table manners, but with Ace eating in front of him he’s devolved right back into habits he only barely remembers.

He’s been gone a long time and missed a lot, and they’re gonna hafta talk about that later. This isn’t even what he’s here for, he’s here to pump Whitebeard for info on the new rumors--

And that new rumor connects to his newer old memories and he freezes before he can choke. Well, he got what he came for, at least, he thinks, horrified, but this is suddenly too important to wait. “Ace,” he says quietly, soon as he’s done. He’s not that hungry anymore. “I need to talk to you.” Ace stares at him and then swallows, and Sabo realizes he’s waiting. “No, not _here,_ later.”

Ace looks around, frowning, but he’s still sitting between Marco and Thatch, with other commanders around them. He looks back to Sabo and tilts his head like ‘why not now?’

And granted, it’s been a long time and there’s no real reason for Ace to immediately trust him, but this is _important_. He just got Ace back, he’s not gonna lose him again. “It’s a secret,” he tries, and Ace waves a hand dismissively.

“This is my family,” he says, and smiles. “They’re trustworthy.”

And Sabo is stunned for a second, because this is Ace, happy. This is Ace, who trusts people. “I appreciate that,” Sabo says, and he says it quietly and sincerely and meets Ace’s eyes when he does. “I’m so happy for you, you have no idea. This is—it’s incredible, and I never thought you’d get this far, and it means the world to me to see you like this. But,” and his voice drops and he leans in, which is the most attention-drawing thing he could possibly do, he knows, but everyone’s watching them anyway. He phrases it as vaguely as he can and ends up with, “Ace, someone knows your name.”

It’s enough to get his meaning across, though, and Ace’s face goes cold and blank. He sets down his drink with exquisite care and stares at the table as Sabo’s heart breaks to see that easy joy erased. “I’m so sorry,” he says, still just as quiet but more urgent now. “There’ve been rumors—the Government’s starting the hunt again. I don’t know who spilled, and you’re not connected to the public info yet, but they wouldn’t’ve restarted like this if they didn’t know for sure you existed.”

There’s a kind of cold resignation in his brother’s eyes when he looks back up. It’s the look Sabo’s always associated with Ace’s self-issues. As long as it’s been since he saw it, it hasn’t been long enough. “I’m sorry,” he offers, ‘cause it’s the only thing he has. “We’re trying.”

And Ace sighs, and runs a hand down his face to hide for just a second. “Ah, well, it had to happen sometime,” he says like it isn’t his most paralyzing fear come true. “My whole life was borrowed time anyway.”

Which is technically true, yeah, but not the way Ace means it. “Not ever,” he hisses. Both palms are flat on the table now and he’s leaning up and in, cold anger burning away the urge to cry. “You are an idiot and dumb and suicidal but you are _ours_ , Ace, and we’d both be dead without you.”

“Sure,” Ace says, but it’s hollow and he’s _not listening,_ so Sabo resorts to old habits.

He twists his fingers in Ace’s hair and bounces his brother’s head off the table.

“Doubt me again and I’m gonna lecture you,” he says calmly, and bounces Ace’s forehead on the table one more time for good measure before letting go. “I’ll lecture you loud and long right here in front of all your family. I’ll tell everyone how you’re the best brother and what a wonderful person you are--”

Ace lunges across the table to slap a hand over Sabo’s mouth, and his horrified face is a thing of joy and wonder forever. “You wouldn’t,” he protests feebly, because he knows damn well Sabo would.

He just leans back, away from the hand, and continues “--the way you took such good care of Luffy and--” and Ace follows him, chanting “nope nope nope” as he falls over the the table to pin Sabo to the ground.

Sabo licks the hand across his mouth, and Ace pretends not to notice. Or maybe he actually doesn’t notice; heaven knows the both of them are used to Luffy doing it. “I believe you!” Ace says almost frantically, and “ _Please_ shut up.”

Sabo smiles as him, trusting that Ace can read the capitulation in his eyes, and Ace does. Of course, Ace also wipes his wet hand along the front of Sabo’s coat, so there’s that. “One day,” Ace says instead, and it’s got the same ring as a promise.

Sabo makes a point of looking around them, at everyone who reacted when he slammed Ace’s head or when Ace pounced, and he looks up at Ace and says, “Y’know, I can almost believe that,” and that’s the best compromise they’re getting on this and they both know it.

And for the second time that day, Ace drags Sabo off the ground. They both settle back on the near bench, sharing the space Sabo had before, and there’s a really awkward silence for a second as they both try to relocate their drinks and everyone else just kind of watches and wonders.

Then Sabo gets this innocent little grin and says, “But, y’know, you really are--” and Ace says, “No, really, shut up,” and the following elbow war knocks them both back off the bench again.

* * *

Thatch leans forward to get a better view of the two children rolling around on the floor, and winces as the blond one lands a nasty-looking bite. “Well,” he says to no one in particular, “I definitely believe they’re brothers.”

Marco hums and agreement, and they share a quick glance--what had the blond meant, someone knew Ace’s name? Everyone knows Fire Fist Ace; he’s pretty infamous, and the Government is certainly after him already. The blond kid had made it sound like more than that, though, and Thatch privately thinks that the dead look on Ace’s face was a horrible thing that should never happen again.

“I’m curious,” Marco says, and Thatch knows they’ll try to corner the blond brat, or at least Ace after he leaves, and see what answers they can get. If something’s threatening one of their brothers, they’re not gonna let it stand.

But Ace has just started a long string of really awful words, and the blond is laughing and saying, “Language!” and Ace’s blistering invective starts to literally blister with heat, and the blond is claiming Ace is a cheater and matching him nasty thought for bad word, and this is the happiest anyone’s ever seen Ace in a long time, possibly ever.

They’ll figure out the next disaster later. Right now...Thatch watches the reunited brothers, internally gives up on his food stores, and sighs, “What the hell, might as well celebrate.”

The resulting cheer drowns out the swearing war from the floor, but only barely.

* * *

“Y’know,” says Marco the Phoenix, learning against the rail next to him, “we don’t stand for threats against our own.”

Sabo bites the inside of his lip to keep his face calm and hmm’s a bit. Everyone on the sea knows _that_.

There’s a lovely awkward beat, and then, “Family is important,” Marco continues like he’d meant to all along.

“True,” Sabo replies, still keeping a straight face. He knows very well what’s going on, but he wants to see how long Marco will try to outsubtle him.

Marco glances at him sidelong, and apparently gives up. “If something’s threatening my family, it’d be better if we had info on it.”

Or maybe that is still subtle for a pirate, Sabo muses, and that’s really cute. He turns and grins at Marco wide and real, and he bows and says, “Thank you for loving my brother.”

Marco blinks at him, but nods. “Of course,” he says like there was never another option.

Sabo holds the bow, but looks up to meet his eyes. “He’s not the easiest to love and he has so many issues, seriously, so many, but I leave him in your care.”

“Of course,” Marco repeats, still sounds baffled over how sincere Sabo’s being, but he means it. As a kid, Ace was angry at the whole wide world and most everyone in it, but he obviously loves being here, with these people.

Luffy will always carve out his own place and warp reality to make a spot for himself, but if Sabo’d had the ability he would’ve always worried about Ace. He really sincerely does appreciate what this crew has done for his brother.

Maybe he oughtta tell them that, especially with what’s coming. “I can’t tell you secrets that aren’t mine,” he says, and digs for the little card he’d made earlier. “But if this blows up as big as I think it will--this is my personal den den mushi number, and I’d appreciate being kept in the loop.”

As the Commander who’s worked with them the longest, Marco has gotta know exactly how many rules this breaks and that the only way Sabo would even begin to risk this is if he really thought Ace would be in danger. Big danger, very soon. Sabo can’t ever tell anyone anything but that’s the life he’s chosen, and he’d never betray Ace’s trust like that anyway.

Marco sucks in a quiet breath as he takes the card; good, he understands what’s at stake. He knows how much trouble they could both be in if anyone found out about that card, but he takes it all the same.

“You really think it’s something we’ll need backup for?” Marco asks, making the card disappear. Huh, maybe he can do subtle after all, if only with his hands. “We’re the Whitebeard Pirates. No one messes with us because we can raise an army against anyone who tries.”

Sabo looks at him, leaning there against the rail, and sighs. “Yeah, but sometimes the right person can make more of a difference than an army,” and his eyes land on Ace again, over on the bow. “I gotta say good bye,” he sighs, because he really doesn’t want to leave. But he still purses his lips and makes a quiet whistle, like a birdcall. It goes unnoticed to everyone but Ace.

Ace’s head whips up and he meets Sabo’s eyes from across the deck. He notices Marco leaning there and raises an eyebrow at Sabo, who crooks a grin back. Then Sabo tilts his head down, tipping his hat just a bit, and Ace makes a pouty face at him but nods.

Sabo leans down to snag his bag, makes sure he’s ready, and then looks back to Ace. His grin is widening, he can feel it, and Ace’s eyes go wide to match because he knows, he can just tell.

So Sabo points at Ace and makes a fake swoony-face and follows it up by blowing a kiss, and he’s over the rail and laughing before Ace’s bellow can catch up. At least that’s one thing that never changes, he thinks, casting his little boat away from the _Moby Dick_. Ace is still the most fun to tease.

“Luffy always loved me better anyway!” follows him out to sea from where Ace has braced himself against the railing, which is a damn dirty lie and they both know it, so Sabo just laughs at him ‘til they’re out of sight.

* * *

Thatch is having a wonderful time and is plying Ace with a lot more alcohol than he generally would, but he wants answers, dammit. Marco’s taking the blond prick, so it’s up to Thatch to get Ace so liquored up that he actually says actual things to them.

But then Ace kinda looks around a bit, and then makes this hilariously sad face at, yup, Thatch guessed it, his brother. The pout makes him look approximately three years old and is all kinds of adorable, so Thatch misses whatever the blond kid does next, but Ace goes white, then red. Then he lunges for the rail, where the tails of blondie’s coat are disappearing.

Unfortunately, he had been sitting crosslegged, and by the time he slams into the rail at speed, the other kid is gone. Thatch follows at a more leisurely rate even as Ace hangs himself out over the railing to shout that someone named Luffy loved him more anyway. Which was probably meant to be a scathing retort, but judging by the fading laughter, it’s not very effective.

“You good?” he asks Ace’s scowly face anyway, because the kid didn’t even really say good bye.

And the scowl slowly fades, and he lets Thatch lead him back over to the party. “Yeah,” he answers, and the smile on his face is content.

“Yeah,” he says, “I’m good.


	2. dumb bros having issues (and visitors, but mostly issues)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sabo does Ace a solid, Ace runs away, Garp is having none of this shit, Thatch breaks inside and this is really not Marco's job.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> look i dunno this was supposed to have been a oneshot okay?????? then this happened, here take it away
> 
> justm3h did an art thing of mera mera sabo: http://justm3h.tumblr.com/post/144233659472/
> 
> lots of strong language in this chapter, fair warning

“So I hear it only took you a hundred or so days to change your mind.”

Ace glances up to see a familiar hatted silhouette perched on the opposite rail, and immediately turns his back. “I’m ignoring you!” he yells loud enough to be heard clear across the deck, but his shoulders are loose and there’s a smile hanging around his mouth.

“And after I came all this way to do you a favor, loser,” Sabo fake-laments, slipping off his railing perch to lean back against it. “Maybe you could ignore me quieter?”

“Then it wouldn’t be a punishment, dipshit,” Ace replies, approaching anyway. “And as if I need favors from you. Can you even fit through doorways with your head that big?”

Sabo’s laugh is still bright and clear, for all it rings deeper now than it does in Ace’s memory. “It’s only as big as your ego,” he bites back cheerfully. “Is that it, you just can’t find a shirt big enough to fit over it?”

Ace stares at him for a moment, stymied. For all of Ace’s massive vocabulary of swears and insults, he’s out of practice bantering with Sabo, who’s got a silver tongue at the worst of times. “Everything about you is the worst thing about you,” he decides on.

“Hi!” pipes in Haruta out of absolutely nowhere, startling Ace. Sabo’s laughing at him, he can tell, but he turns to include the other Commander. “Mr. Blue! It’s good to see you again!”

It’s Ace’s turn to silently laugh at Sabo as he repeats, “Mr. Blue?”

Haruta shrugs. “Well, you wouldn’t give us your name, and we can’t call you Revolutionary-kun or Ace’s Brother all the time, so!”

Sabo blinks, then shrugs. “I’ve been called worse,” he says, and grins big and bright. “Nice to see you again, Haruta! I’m sorry we didn’t get to speak much last time; I’m a big fan of your work.”

“Oh, hardly, you’re making me blush,” Haruta says, one hand flapping the complement away and blush entirely non-existent.

“No, really,” Sabo continues, and Ace sighs quietly in the background. “Running intelligence for a ship this size is impressive enough, but for a fleet like yours? Plus allies, of course, maintaining communication is time-consuming, but you’ve also got one of the slickest info networks in the Grand Line. And I hear you oversee it all yourself! It’s absolutely amazing.”

Well, and there’s the blush. And of course Marco’s rolled up in just enough time to catch the last bit, and he sighs and says, “I’d appreciate it if you stopped seducing the crew, yoi.”

Sabo smiles at him, shameless, and Ace bonks him on the head just on general principles. “You staying for lunch?” he then asks, half to derail this conversation before he has to think about it, and half ‘cause he’s hungry.

Sabo’s shaking his head and Marco asks, “Then what’s up, yoi? We don’t have a scheduled rendezvous for a couple more months, as I recall.”

“Oh, no, it’s nothing official,” he waves off. “I just saw you guys in the distance.  See, I was just running for my life in this general directio--hey!”

Ace is immediately in Sabo’s face, running his hands across Sabo’s shoulders, over his arms, down his back. “For your _life?_ ” he asks. “Are you hurt, is someone chasing you, what can we--”

Sabo brushes Ace’s hands off, smiling at him. “Nothing like that,” he promises, but reaches out to pat Ace condescendingly on the head anyway. “I just heard there was a Marine ship coming through, so…” he trails off with a wavy, dismissive gesture that Ace immediately and correctly interprets as ‘I lost my mind, panicked, and immediately ran fast and hard in the other direction’.

Look, they’d both been liars as kids, okay, it had been important to know these things.

“And you panicked that much?” Ace asks incredulously. “For one Marine ship?”

Sabo winces like he’d forgot Ace knows his tells, then tries to play it off light. “Well,” he starts, but he still can’t quite meet anyone’s eyes when he says, “It was the _Melody._ ”

There’s a moment where Ace processes this. “And it’s coming this way?” he asks, sure that’s not his voice ‘cause he’s certainly not that calm.

“Mmhmm. Oughtta be by in a few hours.”

“Right,” Ace says decisively, and Sabo moves just enough that he can hop the railing as well. “We’re just gonna go…” he uses the same dismissive gesture Sabo made earlier, but at least remembers to verbally finish up with, “...uh, leave. For a while. To a place that’s not here.”

“Catch up for a bit, you know how it is,” Sabo lies cheerfully, bracing the rope as Ace hits the deck of the dinghy.  “Talking and sailing and not getting killed and stuff.”

“Right,” Ace agrees, moving enough to let Sabo jump down, too. “And, uh, I’d take it as a personal favor if you guys could see your way clear to, like, pretend I don’t exist? Just ‘til we get back.”

Marco’s leaning with crossed arms on the rail above, even as Haruta hangs over to stare at them better. “Should I be worried?” Marco asks, sounding more amused than anything.

Both boys say “no,” at the same time. Then Ace has to add, in the interest of fairness, “Unless he spots us.”

“Then you can worry,” Sabo agrees, coiling up the rope. “But otherwise, I’d be more concerned about yourselves; you’re the big shiny target here.”

“Very comforting, yoi. Thanks.”

And then Ace glances at Sabo, and they both turn in unison and bow exactly the same and chorus, “You’re welcome!” with matching giant grins.

“You learned manners,” Sabo says quietly, the elbows him and hands off the rope. “Impressive. Now help me get this ship outta here, won’t you?”

“The _Melody_ ,” Ace repeats, and can’t stop a shudder. “You got it. Are we aiming for any place in particular?”

“South Blue?” Sabo offers dryly. “Or West, I’m not picky.”

“You’re also not helpful.”

“I can take you back to the _Moby--”_

“You are my favorite and I love you forever and please _god_ do not make me go back there right now.”

* * *

They end up drifting, just out of sight. Sabo’s dinghy has a low profile and hides nicely in the waves, like it was no doubt designed to. They do talk, laying on their backs on deck and staring up at the sky until the sun starts to sink.

See, the thing is, Sabo’s little boat is little. It’s fast as hell and super stealthy, but it could hold maybe three people at most, and it certainly hasn’t got enough food for Ace and Sabo for dinner.

So it’s not long after that they’re hungry and worried and Ace is starting to come up with more and more absurd situations of what could be happening back on the _Moby Dick._ Sabo sighs and gets up to set the ship back on course to rendezvous with the Whitebeards because watching Ace work himself into a tizzy is a lot less amusing twenty minutes in.

“I haven’t seen or heard anything,” Ace mentions, which they both know can be a good sign--the _Melody_ not showing up at all--or a bad one.

“It’s been like five hours,” Sabo says, squinting up at the sky to set the course. “That’s probably enough time, right?”

* * *

It wasn’t enough time.

* * *

 They sneak back on board the _Moby Dick_ quietly and under the cover of dusk.

The deck is mostly empty, everything’s relatively quiet, and the _Melody_ is nowhere to be seen. Ace glances up from tying up the rope and asks, “Food?”

Sabo grins back. “Food.” It’s not hunting through forests or stealing or eating-and-running, but there’s still something sweetly nostalgic about prowling around together in search of dinner.

Of course, there’s no need to prowl further than the cafeteria, where dinner service is just finishing up. That’s perfect, Ace knows, ‘cause then they’ll get all the leftovers. Sabo slips in behind him, using Ace as a shield.

Thatch is chilling at his usual table, but he grins brightly when he sees Ace. “Hey, finally! Here to bat cleanup, then?”

Ace shrugs but grabs Sabo’s wrist to drag him forward. Sabo stumbles just a bit, then turns it into a pretentious bow to pretend it was on purpose. Ace, at least, knows better.

“Oh, geez, not you again,” Thatch immediately bemoans. “No one told me you were here, too! I did not make enough food for this!” Still, he gets up and heads towards the kitchens. “Speaking of people who aren’t here, why did Haruta say we were supposed to pretend we don’t know you?”

Ace glances around, looking for Marco, and happens to notice instead a horribly familiar figure. He stares, frozen, which is a bad idea because that man turns around and catches his eye and _oh very shit forever_.

“THERE YOU ARE, you shitty BRAT!” booms out across the room, and Ace had not missed this _at all_.

“That’s why,” he whimpers.

“Lemme go, hurry, he doesn’t recognize me yet, lemme go!” Sabo hisses, squirming in his arms, and it’s only then that he realizes he’d automatically glommed onto his brother like a shield.

“And that OTHER BRAT too! Don’t think I don’t see you there, you ungrateful child!”

Sabo makes a hilarious squeaking noise, gives up trying to get away, and just clutches Ace back as they both tremble in place.

And Monkey D. Garp comes stalking at them across the room in the full flower of his fury, scowl heavy and fist raised.

“FIST OF LOVE!” he declares, and it’s actually worse than it ever was before because that’s definitely Haki he’s using this time. Ace knows ‘cause he tries to phase through it.

“The hell, shitty old man!?” he yells from the ground, rubbing his head.

Sabo groan next to him, face down. “Please don’t remember me.”

Garp looms over both of them. “Like I’d forget, shitty other brat,” he says, sounding honestly offended. That’s right, Sabo thinks vaguely through his brand new pounding headache. Garp had called Luffy ‘my brat,’ Ace was just ‘the brat’, and Sabo’d been ‘the other brat’. Collectively known as ‘the brats’ because Garp was creative like that. Actually, Sabo’s not sure if Garp even knows his proper name.

“I did my best to raise you boys right and turn you into honest Marines! And what happens? You, Ace, end up with this bunch of rabble? How dare you! And I don’t know what you’ve been up to, shitty other brat, but it’s probably just as dumb!”

“Oh, y’know, just hanging out with _your son_ ,” Sabo mumbles, but not quietly enough.

Garp goes a furious red and waves his fists at them threateningly some more. “Just like I thought, so stupid! My idiot son stole my idiot grandkid, and not even the right one!”

“Hey!” Sabo’s up and yelling at him. “What do you mean, not the right one?! I’m exactly the right one, those two menaces couldn’t subtle their way out of a paper bag! Besides, it’s my sin to repent for so of course--ow! Shitty geezer, stoppit! Ow, ow!”

“And you! You’re not better, you went out alone and found this riffraff! Division Commander, pah. You could be such a great Marine!”

“Like hell!” It’s Ace’s turn to blaze up. “I’d never become a shitty Marine like you! It’s my life and I’ll do what I want--dammit, stop!”

“THAT,” Garp informs him, “was a Fist of Pride. Dammit, how dare you go be happy as a pirate?!”

And Sabo, of course, does not miss that opportunity to throw Ace to this particular wolf. “Ace is super-happy,” he babbles. “Ace trusts these people and says they’re family and they like him too and he only tried to kill them a few hundred times!”

“Brat!” Garp bellows in joy, and grabs Ace up into a very non-consensual hug. Garp rubs their faces together and Ace says some things that would probably be horrifying if anyone could’ve heard him.

Sabo uses this opportunity to duck away behind Thatch, and Ace shoves Garp’s face away enough to say, “Sabo hasn’t told Luffy he’s not dead!”

Garp immediately drops Ace and turns to where Sabo’s hiding, yelling, “Other brat!” with his fist up again.

Ace scrambles out of range, even as Sabo says, “Ace calls Whitebeard Pops!”

Garp turns back toward Ace, eyes shining again.  Ace points at Sabo’s new hiding spot under the table and says, “Sabo has a bounty!”

“Ace learned manners!”

“Sabo’s not even a pirate, he’s a dumb lying spy!”

“Ace smiles sometimes and means it!”

“Sabo was never actually dead!”

“Ace _trusts people!”_

“Sabo _forgot us!”_

Ace has gotten up and Sabo’s stopped trying to hide, and Garp is standing there with his arms crossed watching the two brats go at it.  

“That wasn’t my--”

“Luffy cried.”

“I didn’t even--”

“Dadan cried. _”_

“You know I’d never’ve--”

“ _I cried,_ dammit!”

They stare at each other, and everything is quiet til Garp picks them up by the backs of their necks and bonks their heads together. “You two are _causing a scene,”_ he informs them, shaking them. “I’m starting to think Luffy is the only reasonable one.”

And just like that, they both turn on him, clawing and kicking at the arms holding them off the ground.

“Like hell--”

“--’cause he’s crazy like you--”

“--dumbest dumbass can’t even breathe without finding trouble--”

“--most unreasonable, he likes _Ace--”_

“--not like you’d know--”

“-- _marine_ training, more like--”

“--meat-minded moron--”

“Ooh, nice, I like that one,” Sabo mentions in an aside, and Ace nods shortly back at him. Garp heads out the door, dragging the two brats behind him.

“--absolute worst, mountain bandits--”

“--what even were you--”

“--thinking that was gonna do to him--”

“--cause it really didn’t help--”

The door closes behind the three, and Thatch watches blankly. That’s the last thing he really expected, but apparently Ace and his family have _issues_.

Not that it solves his immediate problem, which is, “But what do I do with all this food?”

* * *

 There’s still a few hands out on the main deck, but it’s dark by now and there’s still fewer than were in the cafeteria.

That’s also where Whitebeard currently is.

Garp drags his flailing grandsons over towards Whitebeard’s massive chair, and dumps them both at his feet. He hasn’t been really listening to anything they’ve been saying, but they lunge at each other instantly and start scrapping, so they were probably arguing again.

“Whitebeard,” he acknowledges with a short nod.

“Garp,” Whitebeard returns. “I see you’ve found your stray.”

Garp nods and steps back to avoid a leg, “Yeah, thanks. I hear my grandkid’s happy here, too.”

“We try,” Whitebeard says. “He only tried to kill me a little bit, after all.”

Garp laughs at him. “That’s how Ace makes friends,” he explains. “I’d be a lot more worried if he’d liked you without trying to kill you a bit first.”

“I think it’s ‘cause--” Sabo says from his feet, and Garp casually steps lightly on the kid’s hand where it’s by his foot.

“Stop trying to explain me!” Ace yells in Sabo’s face, and they go rolling away across the deck.

Garp and Whitebeard watch for a moment, and Whitebeard chuckles. “Ah, to be young and full of energy,” he says wistfully, and Garp snorts.

“Those three have been trouble since the word ‘go’,” he says, even as the boys roll back in the other direction.

“I’m adopted!” Sabo informs Whitebeard as they pass.

Ace slams Sabo’s face into the deck. “Shut up, I am too!”

“Doesn’t matter!” Garp calls after them. “You both adopted my kid, it’s all your fault!”

They probably didn’t hear him ‘cause that’s about the time they roll straight off the deck and into the sea.

Garp sighs, blue fire lights up the dark, and Whitebeard laughs.

* * *

Marco paces the deck in front of the two wet dorks. “Look, yoi. You guys obviously have issues with each other but can we not? With the accidental death, can we just not?”

“He started it,” they both mutter at exactly the same time, then glare at each other and turn away.

Marco sighs. He may be the big brother of everyone on the crew, but this? This isn’t his job.

“I got this, don’t worry,” says a voice behind him, and then Garp the Fist, who’s been haunting their ship all afternoon, steps past him and punches the two boys on the head. “You idiots!” he roars, then says, pointing to each of them in turn, “Ace, Sabo wasn’t ever dead, and that’s not his fault. Sabo, Ace isn’t dead yet, and let’s keep it that way.”

“You’re right,” Sabo says, immediately contrite. “Of course, you’re right, even if you are a shitty geezer.”

Garp raises a fist again and Sabo meeps and ducks behind Ace, who glowers at Garp and throws out his arms protectively. “Hey! Don’t be mean to Sabo for telling the truth!”

Garp’s eye twitches, just a bit. “The...truth…?” he grinds out.

The two boys share a look and then flee.

“GET BACK HERE you shitty brats!” Garp roars, chasing after them. “I’ll give you ‘truth’!”

Sabo’s halfway up the rigging with Ace right behind him but Ace still stops to stick out his tongue at Garp. “Don’t wanna!” he yells.

Garp punches the mizzen, and it creaks dangerously as the boys try to hold on.

Marco glances at Whitebeard, who’s laughing again, and then he sighs and rubs his temple.

This is really, really not his job.

* * *

 Garp leaves soon enough, among shouts, screams, rather more fire than is probably safe, and surprisingly enough, badly hidden tears.

Some of those are from pain, though.

Apparently Garp had had a similar plan to Sabo’s; the _Melody_ was waiting just out of sight. Ace’s usual affectionate murder attempts were bright enough to serve as flares, and the _Melody_ sailed off again one Vice-Admiral heavier.

The boys are by the rail, watching him go. “Good riddance,” Ace says, and spits over the side. It’s only a tiny bit bloody, like, a quarter blood, at most.

“You okay?” Marco asks them.

Ace glares and says, “I hate him.”

Sabo sighs. “He was going easy on us, the bastard.”

Marco throws up his hands and leaves to probably go complain to Whitebeard about what his job actually even is.

There’s a while of quiet. Sabo knows Ace is working himself up to say something, and Ace knows Sabo will give him enough time to get it right.

It’s dark enough now that Ace can pretend not be see Sabo right beside him, and he purposefully stares off into the distance as he finally says, “I...don’t really hate you, you know.”

Sabo does his very best, but he still can’t stop all the laughter. “Yeah, I know,” he says. “You couldn’t hate me even when you tried.”

“Shut up! I just--it’s just....”

Sabo shoulder-checks him gently. “I know, I know. And I don’t hate you back, y’know.”

Ace doesn’t deign to move, but he doesn’t turn to fire, either. “I don’t hate you, even if you did disappear for years.”

Sabo sighs. So they’re really doing this then? Fine. “And I could never hate you, even if you do go on suicide missions to kill pirate emperors.”

“Even if you made Luffy cry.”

“Even though you still don’t value your own life, you moron.”

“Even though you gave up on our dream and you’re not a pirate.”

“Hey now, that’s not fair,” Sabo objects. “So I’m not a pirate, so what? I’m still going places and seeing amazing things and writing them all down. So it’ll never be published because of all the classified info, sure, and I’m breaking at least three major rules by even having a journal. But  I don’t care, because one day I want you to be able to read it. So I haven’t given up on my dream, Ace; don’t ever say I did.”

“Heh. Okay, fine. Just me, though? Not Luffy?”

Sabo snorts. “You really think he’s got the patience to read through my life story?”

“Yes,” Ace shoots back immediately. “Not in one sitting, and nothing else that long, but if it’s your story, I don’t think he’d ever give up.”

“Huh. Okay. Well. Maybe?”

They lapse back into silence, watching the waves dance under the stars and just existing together for this moment.

Until the rumble of a stomach cuts through the air and reminds both boys that neither got dinner.

Sabo grins. “Race ya!”

Ace’s smile is real as he gets a foot up on the rail and pushes off and up, turning in just enough time to grab Sabo’s shoulders as he goes, pushing the other boy down and getting a head start.

When they slam into the dining room, panting and leaning on each other, Sabo informs Ace that he is a cheating cheater who cheats.

“Pirate,” Ace points out, and staggers forward. “Hey, Thatch! Any food left?”

Thatch’s distinctive pompadour pops out from the kitchen doorway. “No!” he yells. “No there isn’t! I just put it all away cause you left earlier!”

“But Thaaaaaaaaatch,” Ace starts, and Sabo finishes with, “we’re huuuuuuungry!”

“Not my fault!” Thatch says, pointing at them. “You’re the ones who’re late! I feed people at mealtimes!”

“But we tried,” Sabo points out. “Not our fault we were waylaid and assaulted and dragged out!”

“Yes it was!” Thatch cries. “I stood here and watched you both! It was entirely your fault!”

“But Gramps is gone now,” Ace explains. “So now we can eat.”

“There is a logic-shaped hole in your argument,” Thatch says.

Sabo steps in and grins winningly. “But there’s not a Garp-shaped hole in your wall. Don’t we get points for distracting him for you?”

Ace turns to Sabo and says, “But we--” and Sabo steps heavily on Ace’s foot. “Uh, yeah, I mean, points! Right?”

Sabo pokes Ace in the arm, then grabs his wrist and tugs twice. Ace grunts, tears his wrist away and throws both hands in the air. “Fine!” he says stomping away. “Geez, just wanted some food…” he mutters as he leaves.

Sabo keeps his grin in place and moves to about the halfway point of the room. They haven’t had to use their old hunting signal for ‘distract and sneak around behind’ in a while, but he trusts Ace knows the layout of the ship well enough to get in. “C’mon,” he wheedles like bait he is. “Ace had a bad day, can’t I at least get him some food?”

“Ace had a bad day? _Ace_ had a bad day?!” Thatch next to screeches. “No, you know who had a bad day? I did, I had a bad day! Cause I had Garp the Fist in for lunch and dinner, because he was apparently hanging around waiting for you two! I had to oversee _two meals_ for a _Marine_ and it’s your fault!”

Sabo puts on a look of affronted confusion. “How is it even possibly our fault?” he demands, and Thatch is away on a monologue that should buy them plenty of time.

Sabo just has to sit there and look attentive as Thatch points out what’s wrong with both him and his dumb brother. It’s everything, apparently; everything’s wrong with them. Sabo nods and makes soothing noises in all the right places until Ace flashes him a thumb’s-up from the doorway behind Thatch.

Sabo gives it another count of ten to make sure Ace is clear, then bows real pretty and says, “Then I sincerely apologize for any inconvenience or distraction we may have caused. Please continue to treat my brother well, and thank you for your care of him.”

“--sideways and--huh? Oh. Uh. Sure,” Thatch says, derailed. “Ace is pretty cool, most of the time; it’s our pleasure, really.”

Ooh, this guy knows his manners! Sabo hides his grin, because manners make someone ever so easy to manipulate. “Then I’ll stop inflicting my presence on your domain,” he says formally, and drops another bow because why not? He withdraws with a tip of his hat, and then he’s out the door.

“Inflicting your presence? Really?” Ace asks, falling in beside him with a massive sack over his shoulder.

“Manners cost nothing,” Sabo says haughtily.

“Then stop using thousand-belli words,” Ace retorts. “Picnic in the crow’s nest?”

There’s a thump and a screech and a massive bang behind them, and a door slams open. “ACE!” Thatch roars down the hall in a rather remarkable impression of Garp. “DAMMIT GET BACK HERE!”

Sabo sighs. “Tigers were so much less troublesome.”

“Also less fun.”

“True enough. Race you?”

And they share a grin, cause this is the best part of the hunt--getting away with it.


	3. dumb bros telling lies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sabo aggressively takes time off, Marco's frustration peaks, Whitebeard accidentally acquires a hat and Ace betrays Thatch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> look idk here just take it  
> I think we got a few more scenes still to go, so, uh, anyone wanna beta for this pile of ridiculous?

By the time he gets in from the rain, he's wet, tired, hungry, and behind schedule.

The first order of business is, of course, to knock the rain off of his hat, and only then does he look around. In the back corner, there's a rowdy group of pirates and he can tell at a glance that this is exactly the tavern he's been looking for.

He sidles up for the bartender’s attention and gets a pint of the local specialty. Then it's just a matter of sitting there and nursing it, and waiting and waiting and _waiting._

He eventually has to move to a table a little bit closer in order to hear better, setting his hat on the chair next to him. Turns out that they're waiting, too. Seems like it won’t be too much longer, however; it is, in fact, just enough time for him to get a bite or two to eat before the door slams open and in walks a very wet and very angry Marco the Phoenix.

Everyone in the corner cheers his arrival, waving their glasses around. Marco marches over, frowning heavily.

Sabo slouches back into his chair, hunching his shoulders to change his silhouette. He knows that without his hat and with his scar out of sight, most people won’t recognize him. When you have defining physical characteristics that everyone looks for, changing or hiding them is your easiest disguise.

“There you lot are,” Marco says, annoyed. “I've been looking for you all day, yoi.”

“Commander!” someone he doesn’t recognize yells. “Come on, join us for a drink!”

Marco sighs and tugs his hair. “Only until the rain passes,” he says.

Two hours later Sabo still hasn't figured out if his best bet is to just say hi or to sneak on board whatever boat they may have. That's about when Marco sinks into the chair next to him and sets a new drink in front of him.

“I almost didn't recognize you without your top hat,” Marco says.

Sabo grins at him. “I know. That's why I took it off.”

Marco give him a small smile, and sips on his drink. “What brings you here, yoi? Stalking us again?”

He sighs. “Well, if you were easier to find, I wouldn't need to have been looking for you guys this long.”

“Got some time off for the holidays, then?” Marco assumes, and Sabo grins at his really bad attempt at subtlety.

“Something like that,” he allows. “I'm not late. Well, as long as we're heading back to the ship tonight I won't be late.”

“Late for what, yoi?” Marco asks.

Somehow, Sabo is not shocked that Marco doesn't know. “He didn't tell you,” he sighs. “I guess I shouldn't be surprised.”

Marco rolled his eyes and says, “Since when does Ace tell me anything? I've learned more about him from you than I ever have from him, yoi.”

Sabo shrugs but doesn't apologize. It's a defense mechanism that he knows too well. “It's his birthday,” he says instead.

Marco next-to pulls his hair out. “When?” he grits.

“The first,” Sabo says, grinning. Marco has the best reactions; it’s no wonder he’s Ace’s favorite. “He hates it.”

“I don't care,” Marco growls. “Thatch has been trying to throw him any kind of party for going on two years now, yoi. I'll be damned if I help him avoid it any longer.”

Sabo hums knowingly. “I was hoping to be there for it,” he throws out, and Marco nods distractedly

“Yes, of course, come stay for a while, yoi. I just had to pick up these lost idiots.”

“Their bad wind is my good luck,” Sabo says. “I heard you were around here but couldn't find you. I’ve been looking since yesterday. It's a good thing your crew isn't exactly subtle.”

“Unlike some people I could mention?” Marco asks sardonically. “Speaking of, I was hoping to get a chance talk to you, yoi.”

“Oh, I'm sure you were,” Sabo says. It’s about time, honestly. “What can I do you for?”

Marco’s sideways glance tells him that Ace hasn't managed to get rid of that phrase in his vocabulary either. It's one that they picked up in the Gray Terminal, he thinks. Probably. Sounds like it came from there, anyway.

“Your brother,” Marco says, “is one of the most frustrating, annoying, self-sacrificing pirates I've ever had the misfortune to meet. Of course, not that you're much better, yoi.”

“Ace is actually pretty simple to understand,” Sabo says, ignoring the undercurrent and overcurrent insults and the scoff of disbelief. “He is! You just have to understand his priorities. They go: his important people, his important people's happiness, civilians, then himself, and then adventure.”

“And why is that?” Marco asks.

“Same reason he hates his birthday.”

“And why is that?” Marco repeats with awful patience.

“If he hasn't told you, I sure as hell won't,” and Sabo gives him his biggest, brightest grin. “But it's not that he's suicidal, ‘cause he's not.” He knows he’d said otherwise last time, and Marco’s face here is hilarious. “He doesn’t value his own life, but that’s not why, either.”

Marco glares at him, visibly biting back questions and picking his next words carefully. Sabo maintains the grin; he’s just so easy to tease, it’s delightful. “You mentioned something like that when your granddad was there, yoi,” Marco decides on, then adds, almost delicately, “Has he always...been like this?”

Sabo considers the question, then picks his own words just as carefully. “He had reason to grow up paranoid, and no reason to break that habit.” He shrugs. “I am working on it, but it's slow going.”

“Especially when you forget him for ten years, yoi?”

“But, see, he told you that, which means he talks to you. Which means he trusts you, so progress! Yay!”

Marco groans and finishes his beer. “That boy’ll be the death of me,” he says, but sounds more resigned than upset.

Sabo nods in agreement and finishes his own beer. Ace will probably be the death of him, too, but he accepted that when he ten and short and living in a trash heap, so he’s used to it. “So, when do we go back to the ship?” he says. “I was hoping to give him his birthday present on his birthday.”

“Right,” Marco sighs. “His birthday. That he didn't tell us about, yoi. Right, Thatch is gonna kill me and then him and then me again.”

“As long as I'm not involved,” Sabo says. “I think he still hates me from last time.”

“I've never seen Thatch hate anyone as quick and as much as he hates you, yoi.”

“Oh, that's so sweet!” Sabo coos, and means it.

“There's something wrong with you, isn't there?”

“I grew up with Ace; what did you expect?”

Marco sighs, shakes his head, and stands up. “Rain’s stopped,” he announces. “We’re leaving, yoi.” The crew in the corner start to complain, and Marco shakes his head. “If we leave now,” he says with more of that terrible patience, “We’ll be back on the ship for the party tonight, yoi.”

The crew immediately stop complaining and start settling their tabs. Marco stalks outside to wait for them, so Sabo scoops up his hat and meanders after him. This is easier than sneaking aboard, he decides, but less fun.

He tells Marco this, and Marco very pointedly ignores him. He very pointedly does not pout back. It’s all very pointed, he thinks, like Marco’s hair, and he hides his grin.

Marco stalks away from him, heading down towards the docks, and Sabo scampers obnoxiously in his wake just to really annoy him. By the time the wayward crew pile out of the bar, they’re almost out of sight.

Marco must’ve flown there, Sabo muses, as they reach the docks. There’s no other boats or ships marked as Whitebeard’s, and it would be the fastest way to find their lost group. It makes sense, because Marco’s the fastest and most versatile. He must be the go-to crew finder, Sabo realizes with dawning delight. He must _hate_ it.

“Do you do this often?” he asks idly as Marco storms over to the idiots’ skiff. Marco’s sigh is answer enough, and Sabo bites his lip and hops aboard to help coil the ropes.

The rest of the crew come meandering down the dock, and Sabo watches with fascination as Marco blatantly holds onto his patience with his figurative fingernails. It’s an interesting balancing act, and one that makes the crew, once they notice, shut up and focus on sailing.

Sabo wonders how close Marco is to actually snapping, and how much is an act to get the crew to behave. It wouldn’t work for him, he knows, but he might mention the technique to Koala when he’s back; it would suit her.

 

* * *

 

“I see you found our lost brothers,” Whitebeard says, watching them pour out of the ship and back onto the deck of the _Moby Dick_. “Any trouble?”

“Trouble found me,” Marco says wryly, and dumps Sabo in front of his Captain. Sabo grins and tries to look as charming as possible while being hauled around by his coat collar like a scruffed puppy

“I followed him home,” Sabo admits, but Whitebeard looks amused so it’s probably okay.

Familiar arms drape over his shoulders and a pointy chin digs into his head. “Can we keep him?” Ace asks. “I promise to walk him and feed him--ow!”

Sabo removes his elbow from Ace’s solar plexus. “The idea of you being in charge of housebreaking anything is hilarious,” he drawls, and reaches back to break the headlock Ace is trying to drag him into.

It was Gramps who taught them how to hold and break headlocks, and Sabo finds that they both still use the same Marine moves for it. It’s a familiar pattern, and one of the few Marine techniques the three of them bothered to learn. But Sabo’s supplemented that training with fishman Karate and judo and aikido and anything he could beg, blackmail or bribe anyone into teaching him, while Ace relies on fire and brute force.

Which is why it’s no surprise to anyone that Ace ends up facedown on the deck rather fast. Ace grumbles and twists underneath him, but he also wasn’t really trying. Sabo laughs and puts a bit more weight on the knee digging into Ace’s spine.

He leans down and says, at a perfectly normal volume, “So I hear you didn’t tell them about tomorrow.”

Ace freezes, then explodes into motion. Sabo shifts his grip and rides it out, keeping Ace pinned as Ace finally sees the trap he just walked into. It’s too little, too late, though; he’s let himself be pinned, and Sabo’s not about to let him up. He could easily get away by using his fruit, but they both know he won’t.

“No,” Ace says, “No, no, c’mon, don’t,” and writhes pitifully once more.

Marco sighs and steps over them both. “No other trouble,” he tells Whitebeard, “But I did learn something interesting.”

“Traitor!” Ace howls, and almost manages to buck Sabo off. “Marco, don’t! He’s lying, he lies, it’s not true!”

Whitebeard’s watching with interest now, and Marco projects when he announces, “Apparently, tomorrow is Ace’s birthday.”

The uproar is immediate, and Ace slumps in defeat. “I hate you,” he whines pitifully at Sabo, who laughs in his face but helps him up anyway.

“If it were a lie, you wouldn’t’ve known immediately what he meant,” Marco tells him unsympathetically, and then steps aside.

Ace blinks, sees Thatch bearing down on him, and makes a noise he’ll forever deny is a squeak. He tries to hide behind Sabo, who won’t let him, and quickly gives that up in favor of running away.

That doesn’t really work so well either. Sabo steps up to stand beside Marco as they watch Ace try to dodge through a crowd of crewmates who are quite clearly not on his side. Thatch follows, yelling about flavors and candles and other such horrifying things.

Marco glances sideways at him, and Sabo smiles back.  “Good,” he says, and, “Thanks.”

Whitebeard’s laugh rolls across the deck as someone trips Ace and doesn’t even pretend it was accidental. Sabo looks over to him, to this man his brother respects, and watches him watch his crew.

They’ve done well by Ace, and Whitebeard’s love shows in his eyes. This is okay, Sabo thinks, and it only tears his heart a little when he finally decides he can trust Ace with these people.

Doesn’t mean he’ll make it easy for them, though.

 

* * *

 

The party starts well before sundown. It’s just like every other pirate party Sabo’s ever been to, only better because this is Ace’s family.

Thatch has organized his chefs into a platoon, and there’s plenty of food everywhere. There’s still more waiting in the kitchen, and Sabo follows Ace right over to the tables.

“Nope,” Thatch says, appearing out of nowhere. “No food for you two.” He waves around a wooden spoon coated in something tacky and orange.

“No food?” Ace pouts. “But--but it’s my birthday!”

Thatch glares him down. “And if you’d said so, you could have had all this plus a cake.”

“But Thatch!” Ace whines, and Sabo lurks behind him.

“Don’t you ‘But Thatch!’ me, young man!” Thatch says, and bits of the the orange stuff go flying. “You could have literally just said, ‘Hey Thatch, it’s my birthday!’ and I would have made you so much food, so why didn’t you?”

Ace crosses his arms. “I was complaining about my age like all of yesterday,” he points out. “I’m _old_ now!”

“That’s not an announcement of your birthday! When I ask you what’s new, you don’t say, ‘I feel old’, you say, ‘My age’! How is that hard?!”

Ace mutters something and kicks at the deck, so Sabo pops up over his shoulder to say, “He didn’t think anyone would care.”

Thatch makes an unholy noise that stretches the bounds of human hearing and flails his spoon. Ace whirls to go after Sabo, but arms come around him and hold him in place.

“We care,” Thatch tells the back of Ace’s head, and Ace freezes. “Ace, you have to know that we care.”

Sabo lets the moment stretch, and then finally asks, “So does that mean we get food, then?”

Thatch drops Ace to turn on Sabo and accidentally clocks Ace on the side of the head with his spoon. It sticks to his hair, hat, and ear, and the comically horrified looks on both their faces is too much.

Sabo gives himself hiccups, he laughs so hard.

Ace huffs and goes off to stick his head in a bucket, and Thatch gibbers incoherently about a cake and disappears into the kitchen. Sabo finds a convenient box to lean against and watches the bustle as everything gets under way. Someone’s done up a quick banner that says “Happy brthday Ace!!!” and Sabo huffs a laugh at the misspelling as they tack it above the door.  Others are lighting the lamps that’ll keep it bright and warm all night, and the chefs are bringing out yet more food.

The crowd breaks for a moment, and he catches a glimpse of Marco standing next to Whitebeard. The distinctive laugh rings out across the deck, and Sabo smiles.

Eventually Ace wanders back over, spoonless and clean, and he brings with him two cups of the grog that’s going around tonight. He passes one over, and they cheers silently. Sabo downs most of it, and Ace sets his cup aside.

“So?” he asks, staring at Sabo expectantly.

“So what?” Sabo asks, throwing back the dregs of his drink. It’s pretty good grog, actually; definitely better than he’d been expecting.

“So where’s my present?”

Sabo looks up, eyes wide and mouth just a bit open. “Present?” he repeats.

Ace rolls his eyes. “Stop it with the face,” he says. “I know you didn’t come all the way here to cause this shitstorm without at least bringing me a present.”

Sabo hums noncommittally, and then ducks away from Ace’s attempted noogie. “Maybe I did,” he allows, and ignores Ace’s triumphant crow and subsequent grabby-hands. “But if I did bring a present, I certainly wasn’t gonna hand it over out here.”

“Why not?” Ace asks, obviously not remembering what happened the last time Sabo said something was better discussed in private.

“Because it’s gonna make you cry,” Sabo takes great delight in telling him. “There’s gonna be tears and snot everywhere; it’s gonna be so gross. I thought I’d do your dignity a favor and let you do it alone.”

"Bastard, you think anything from you could make me cry?" Ace snaps right back.

Sabo grins, bright and hard. Why Ace thinks he knows himself better than Sabo knows him will forever remain a mystery. "Oh, you think you won't?" He tugs out the piece of paper anyway, and hands it over.

Ace snatches it, and Sabo holds his breath. The paper’s old, but it was made for wear, and it holds. "Bring it, dork, of course I won't! Especially not over an old piece...of...paper......"

Sabo hums knowingly. “Yeah, that’s what I thought,” he says, watching Ace’s eyes shine over, stuck on the old wanted poster for Portgas D. Rouge.

It’s a good picture, Sabo knows. The flower in her hair matches her lips, her freckles are subtle but familiar, and he knows that smile because he knows Ace’s.

“You’re the worst,” Ace says, but it’s strangled and he’s blinking too hard for Sabo to take him seriously. “You’re so awful and I hate you, you horrible shitty bastard.”

“My parents were married,” Sabo says,  because he never really did learn how to pull punches.

Ace’s fingers convulse on the paper, but he stops before he crumples it.  Sabo lets a few moments pass, then offers as much mercy and apology as he can; he gets up to refill their cups and let Ace have a moment alone.

He doesn’t make it all the way up before Ace says, “Yeah,” and it stops Sabo dead. His voice is almost smooth, almost even, but only almost. “But mine--mine liked each other.”

And that, even with the hitch, that hits Sabo right under his sternum and he falls back to sitting. For once his wide eyes and dropped mouth aren’t affected, and he gapes at Ace.

“Ooh, diss,” Thatch says, settling in next to them. He holds out the refills he brought, but neither boy reaches for them and he looks back and forth between Ace’s flush and Sabo’s shock. “You gonna just let him say that?”

Sabo snaps back into reality and turns to tell Thatch, “I’m actually screaming inside right now.” He grabs one of the new cups from Thatch’s hand and chugs it in one go. “I’m so _proud_.”

Ace flushes brighter and his eyes drop back to the paper. “Shut up,” he growls. “Don’t think this changes anything! And I still hate you!”

Everything about that is a blatant lie, so Sabo waves it off and steals Ace’s refill to sip on, too. “Sure you do.”

Thatch blinks between them. “I missed something here,” he says, then squints suspiciously at Sabo. “What’d I miss?”

“Why’re you looking at me?”

“Because it’s always your fault,” Thatch says firmly.

Sabo chokes on his sip and Ace laughs at him. “See!” Ace cries. “Thatch sees through your lying ways too!”

Sabo’s still coughing on his grog, so he makes a shaky but recognizable gesture in response.

“Rude,” is Ace’s eloquent response, and he takes the cup back from Sabo.

Sabo finally coughs his throat clear, and then sits back up. “Not everything’s my fault! All the stupid ideas are Ace’s!”

Thatch waggles a finger in his face. “Ah, but you know better and still go along with them anyway, so still your fault.”

It takes Sabo a second to get past that implied insult enough to vocalize it. “You’re...blaming me for Ace’s everything?”

It’s Ace’s turn to make an annoyed squawk, but Thatch nods firmly. “He has to have formed these bad habits as a kid, so, yeah, blaming you.” He raises his eyebrows and sips from his own grog.

“Hey!”

Sabo blinks at Thatch, and then down at his empty-again cup. “...Fair enough,” he allows grudgingly.

_“Hey!”_

“Hey yourself,” Sabo says to Ace, planting a hand on his brother’s forehead and pushing him over. Ace flails, cup spilling everywhere, and Sabo adds, “You’ll rip it.”

Ace immediately freezes, the sits up very carefully. He carefully refolds the paper along the creases, then stands, says, “Be right back!”, and dashes off.

“Where’s he goin’?” Thatch mumbles half-heartedly.

He’s not expecting a response, Sabo can tell, and he looks Thatch over again. He knows a lot about this man now, with his swordsmanship and his division of pirate chefs and his dark past, narrowly escaped. He’s strong and fearsome and a wonderful cook, and he makes Ace happy. He makes Ace laugh.

But he also said that Ace is only 'pretty cool, most of the time,' and that’s unforgivable.

“He’s going to put his present away,” Sabo tells Thatch anyway, and watches Thatch’s eyes light up.

“You got him a present?” he asks. “What is it?”

Sabo laughs in his face and gets up to get a refill, ignoring the high whine behind him about how horrible he is.

It’s true, after all, and the best part is, Ace won’t talk about his present either. It’s a gift that just keeps giving.

He runs into Marco over by the alcohol, and gently shoulderchecks him as he refills his glass. “Nice party,” he says.

Marco sighs. “What do you want now?”

Sabo puts on an affronted face. “Why do I have to want something to say hi?” Marco just stares at him until he finally shrugs and says, “Okay, okay, I give. I just wanted to say a thing.”

Marco stares some more, and Sabo pointedly refills his cup and moves away from the group, over to the railing. It’s like the guy’s never even heard of subtlety.

When Sabo’s lingering comfortably and Marco is standing around awkwardly, he finally gets to his point. “You remember the first time I was here?”

“I’ve tried to forget but it never quite works, yoi.”

Sabo sticks out his tongue. “Yeah, so, some people are after Ace. I mentioned, remember? So...well, keep eyes on him, won’t you?”

Marco focuses in on him. “They’re that close, you think?”

“Just--don’t let him go off on missions alone, will you? Or ashore without a bunch of commanders around?”

“That’s not easy, yoi,” Marco says, but nods anyway. “Who’s after him, anyway?”

Sabo keeps his eyes moving over the crowd on deck, making sure no one is watching them for too long. “Right now? Only a handful of Marines. But at any moment, it could turn into...possibly everyone.”

Marco raises an eyebrow at him, but Ace’s back out and catches his eye from across the deck. He murmurs, “Just keep it in mind, and keep my card close,” and then, as Ace approaches, “But you’re fire too, right? So does his fire burn you, or are you the designated Ace-hugger?”

Marco chokes on his drink, and Ace lunges and attempts to shove Sabo over the railing. Sabo bounces up and off it, grabbing Ace’s hat as he passes overhead. An enraged shout follows him and he makes a madcap dash through the gathered crew, arrowing towards the back wall.

He makes it to Whitebeard’s chair long before Ace can catch up, and he bounces up to clamber onto the armrest. “Here,” he says cheerily, waving the orange monstrosity. “I brought you a hat!”

A howl of “You’re _dead!”_ rises from the crowd, but Whitebeard just laughs. “Thank you, son,” he says, and carefully takes the hat. It’s comically tiny against him, but he still perches it carefully on his head.

“You’re welcome,” Sabo says, and falls to sit on the edge of the armrest, kicking his legs like he’s six. “Hey, you wanna hear about the time Ace thought he could take on an entire pack of tigers and our little brother accidentally saved him by slingshotting him off a cliff?”

 _“No, he doesn’t!”_ Ace cries, and jumps to grab Sabo’s ankle. It takes him a few tries, but he finally wrestles Sabo to the floor and manages to pin him. Sabo fights it mostly for show, and only bites him a little bit, really, only the absolute minimum of biting and hair-pulling, and he only tried for the eye gauge once and didn’t even mean it.

“I hate you,” Ace complains, pinning him with a knee to the solar plexus. “Try getting out of that!”

Ooh, a challenge, and an easy one at that. Sabo smiles up at him, sweet and innocent, and says, “I love you so much; you’re the best brother ever and I’m lucky to have you.”

Ace turns red right down to his collarbone and immediately scrambles away. Sabo picks himself up and finds his hat while Ace goes to whine to Whitebeard about having the worst brother ever.

He ends up surrounded by Whitebeard pirates, all of whom want to hand him fresh drinks and tell him stories about Ace being dumb. In the background he can still hear Whitebeard laughing at Ace’s whining, and time slips by fast and faster.

There’s fireworks later, at midnight, and Ace laughs at them, points and nudges his shoulder, and kindly steps far away before throwing up a plume of fire so big it blinds them all.

It’s the best New Year’s Sabo’s ever had.

 

* * *

 

He’s having a lovely hazy dream about smelling music and eating sunshine when he’s woken up by a relatively gentle kick to the ribs.

Even with gritty eyes, dry mouth, and a quiet nastiness behind his thoughts, he still curls up around the boot and manages to get a knee up behind his attacker’s. They fall, and the startled yelp is familiar enough that he pulls his next attack.

Instead, he shifts and rolls over until he’s crushing Ace’s chest and loops his legs around until he’s locked down any potential leverage. It’s not entirely the way they used to sleep, curled up in their treehouse, but it’s close enough.  “You’re lucky,” he yawns into Ace’s face, making sure to exhale as much morning breath as he can. “Last time someone tried that, I castrated them.”

Ace goes still underneath him, and Sabo hums happily and goes back to sleep.

He wakes up again later, slower and more pleasantly. It’s not been a half hour, he thinks, and Ace’s snores are still loud and comforting. He never had issues sleeping through snoring or in a dorm, and now he remembers why.

Waking up slowly in a luxury he doesn’t get often, especially not out in the open. Still, This is Ace’s family and Ace is right next to him, and he’s pretty comfortable with that. He sits up, cracks his jaw on an enormous yawn, and stretches leisurely.

It’s mid morning, or perhaps edging into early afternoon, and the people stirring around them also look likely to wake to hangovers. They’re sprawled every which way, up against the mast and across the deck. He’d managed to wedge them back into a corner last night, at least; he’d never let himself get that far gone.

The smell of food is drifting light on the wind, and he smiles and stands, rolling his shoulders. His pillow is still lying there like a lump, so he ditches Ace and follows his nose.

There’s very few people in the galley, but Thatch is already there, along with two groggy-looking chefs from his division. Sabo wanders in to ask for some water, and Thatch waves him off. “Go sit down, I’ll bring you something in a bit,” he says, and Sabo doesn’t bother arguing.

He picks the same table he sat at that first time and then blanks out for a while. A yawn catches him by surprise, and he blinks back into awareness when Thatch comes grumbling out of the kitchen.

“Here,” Thatch says, slamming down a massive plate and a pitcher of something horrendously vomit-colored. “Why do you hate me?”

“I don’t hate you,” Sabo lies mildly, and sniffs the pitcher. It smells strongly of bellfruits and mint.

“Hangover cure,” Thatch says, and sips some straight out of the pitcher. He holds it out, and Sabo makes a face but takes it. It actually doesn’t taste too bad, he finds, as long as he doesn’t try to breathe while drinking it.

He drains half of it and hands it back, and Thatch cradles it in both hands. “So. You hating me. Why?”

“I really don’t hate you,” he says, and meets Thatch’s eyes when he says it. Thatch’s eyebrows draw in and his mouth turns down, so Sabo throws him a bone. “I hate that I can’t be here all the time.”

Thatch’s face clears up, and he says like a holy revelation, “You’re _jealous_.”

Sabo sputters, and recovers with a, “That’s not what I said!”

“It’s what you meant, though,” Thatch says. “You’re jealous that we get Ace’s time and his smiles and that we’re here to watch his back. That’s it, isn’t it?”

“No, not at all,” Sabo says in the sincerest way he knows how. “It’s just that--”

“You’re jealous of how much he trusts us,” Thatch talks right over him. “Y’know, I thought it was Ace who had a brother complex over Luffy, but you’re really not much better, are you?”

He’s really not, but he’s also not about to admit it. “Ace loves Luffy a lot--” he sidesteps, and Thatch waves him off.

“Yeah, and Garp loves you all, I get it. Your family is all kinds of messed up and stupid; you’re just better at hiding it than they are.”

Sabo thinks a second, then sighs, gives up, and makes a mental note that Thatch is far smarter than he originally thought. “Ace is probably the most emotionally healthy of us,” he admits as a distraction.

Thatch stares down into the murky liquid that’s cleared up Sabo’s headache like magic. “That’s terrifying,” he says eventually, and shoves the plate of food forward.

Sabo starts on it, slower than normal, and the silence is surprisingly companionable. Once he’s sure his stomach’s not gonna revolt, he picks up the pace. The food’s amazing, as usual.

“We really do care,” Thatch says eventually and quietly. “You trust that, at least?”

And that’s the kicker, isn’t it? Because he trusts this crew to love his brother. He trusts that they’ll care for him and be there for him, right up until the truth comes out.

Right up until then, because when that name hangs heavy in the air, people turn nasty. Nice people say awful things, kind people wish death on children, and he’s seen it happen every time. He’s seen family turn away because you’re not _perfect_ , he’s seen the pain caused by the word _monster_ , and he knows he’s broken but he will still never trust Ace’s sanity to anyone else.

“Sure,” he says instead, light and flippant. “Yesterday proved that pretty well, actually.”

Thatch narrows his eyes suspiciously, but lets it go. "I’ll go get more food,” he says instead, and wanders back into the kitchen with the pitcher.

He comes by with another plate, but people are starting to pile in and he’s kept busy in the kitchen. Sabo still swings by on the way out to commandeer two mugs of fresh coffee from him.

“One black, and one with an unholy amount of cream and sugar, please,” he says, and Thatch slides him a sideways glance.

“Ace drinks his with just a bit of sugar, you know,” he says, and Sabo snorts.

“No,” he says. “Ace suffers through his with just a bit of sugar ‘cause he wants people to think he’s tough.”

Thatch cackles, and several people nearby wince.

“I tell you this,” Sabo says earnestly, “in hopes that you will never ever let it go.”

“You’re all right, kid,” Thatch says, and slides him the mugs.

“You’re not entirely awful yourself,” Sabo answers, and almost manages to make it sound real.

Thatch snorts. “Don’t strain yourself, there,” he says, and turns back to the giant bowl in front of him.

Sabo wanders back off to the deck, and manages to make it before the coffee cools completely. He sits next to Ace, sipping on his mug and watching the misery of the people waking up around him.

Ace’s snores die down into a grumble, and he rolls over and makes zombie noises for a bit. Sabo nudges the mug with the abomination in it closer, and Ace finds it with his eyes still mostly closed. He rolls around until he gets upright and they sit there in silence, surrounded by the peaceful morning noises of whining and requests for mercy killings.

Sabo wonders idly how long it’ll take Ace to realize it’s not his usual drink. Ace just drains it and makes sleepy lipsmacking noises, and Sabo figures his answer is ‘never’.

“Y’r ‘wfl,” Ace says after a while, and Sabo snorts.

“I’m a saint,” he corrects. “I brought you coffee.”

“Yeah,” Ace says, and manages vowels this time. He yawns, and waves the empty mug around in thanks. “But you’re leaving, ain’tcha?”

Sabo sighs. “Honestly, I couldn’t afford the time to come here at all,” he says, and watches Ace pry his eyes open. Ace has never been a morning person.

“Then why’d you come?” Ace asks, and Sabo huffs and elbows him in the ribs. “Ouch! Yeah, okay, sorry. Not awake yet.”

They’re quiet again, and a guy Sabo vaguely recognizes from last night goes stumbling past them to hurl over the rail.

Ace yawns again, then mutters, “Miss you, you know?”

“Yeah,” Sabo sighs, and means it. “Miss you too.”

But when he leaves some twenty minutes later, Ace drowsing alone beside the empty mugs, he still doesn’t quite manage to look back.


	4. dumb bros getting pwned

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sabo is very much Not Okay, Ace is oblivious, and Koala wins all the things.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: this chapter includes an interrogation scene. It's early, short, the threat is breaking bones, and no actual violence occurs in it, but it is discussed. Please read cautiously.
> 
> Also, the last two chapters are gonna be one arc of misery and angst and marineford. It's not gonna be this kinda happy funtime we got so far, but it will have luffy, so...yay? Enjoy this last lightish chapter before that, sorry it's short

He leans back and kicks his feet up against the bars. “So,” he starts, casual as anything. “What’re you in for?”

His mark’s quiet in the cell across the way. Sabo tilts the brim of his hat forward and waits; he can afford to be patient.

Finally the guy (Jack Morrisey, age 43, no fruit, Rimsay crew, government mole, wimp, _traitor_ ) says, “Wrong place, wrong time.” His voice is heavy, and his accent is worse. “You?”

Sabo sighs, just the right amount of dramatic, and admits, “I really shouldn’t’ve said that about her dog.”

Jack scowls and looks away, but that’s okay; Sabo can wait. This way of interrogation may not be the fastest, but it is his favorite; it’s subtler and super effective, when he has enough lead time to pull it off. He's pushing it right now, but he's pretty sure he’s got just enough.

They sit in silence for a while, and Sabo makes sure to keep a smug face and stay utterly still just to make it as awkward as possible. Jack’s starting to shift more, and he’s very near a breaking point when the door to the detention area slams open.

“--pirate scum!” someone’s saying, and there’s too many footsteps for it just to be a guard. Jack shifts away from his cell door and Sabo follows suit, sighing; this changes everything, and his timeline was tight enough as it was.

“Marines will be by for you shortly,” the guard is saying as he pulls his prisoner into view of their cells. “Until then, just sit tight and--huh.”

Sabo keeps a pleasant face. Yes, there are only two cells and both are occupied; surely the guard hadn’t forgotten? His already low opinion of the man plummets further.

The guard tosses the prisoner to the ground and Sabo keeps his eyes stuck on the man with the key. He’s opening Sabo’s cell, and this would be the perfect time to affect an escape if he wanted to be anywhere other than here.

As it is, he just makes a show of yawning widely and settling in on the plank that serves as a bench. He even closes his eyes most of the way, though that’s more to avoid looking at the _idiot_ that’s being thrown into his cell.

The prisoner stumbles and faceplants, and the guard laughs as he slams the door shut again. “Have fun,” he taunts, and wanders back out of the detention block.

The unlucky moron on the floor makes upset grumbling noises, so Sabo takes the moment to fully squeeze his eyes shut and rapidly regret all of his life decisions.

“--broke my nose,” his new cellmate is complaining, and Sabo watches him roll over. It might be easier if his hands weren’t cuffed behind his back, but since they are, it’s amusing. He watches the guy squirm around to sit upright against the opposite wall, then tilt his head back to try to stop the nosebleed.

“So much for subtlety,” Sabo says out loud, and across the cell Ace jerks upright so hard he slams his head into the wall.

“Sabo!” Ace exclaims, and Sabo flinches.

“Shhhh, seriously! Careful with my name!”

“Right, right,” Ace says, and rolls his eyes. “Super secret spy, I forgot.”

Across the way, Jack plasters himself up against the bars. “Like, Revolutionary Sabo?” he asks, way louder than Sabo’s comfortable with. “The hell are you doing here? You oughtta be executed! Or at least in Impel Down! Guard, hey! Hey, guard!”

Sabo glares across at Ace, who at least has the decency to wince and apologize. “Super secret spy, right,” he says again, with less sarcasm this time.

Sabo rolls his eyes and gives up. “All right, we’ll do this your way,” he says, leaning over to grab Ace’s seastone handcuffs. It’s a simple lock and won’t take but a second.

The angle is awkward, though, so he hauls Ace around and over, ignoring the protests. From there it's easy to pick the lock and in under a minute, Ace is rubbing his wrist, flicking his fingers into fire.

“What are you doing here?” Ace asks.

“My job,” Sabo retorts, getting to work on the door. “The real question is, what are you doing here?”

“They caught me unaware,” Ace almost-lies, and Sabo eyes him but lets it go. That’s not hardly the whole story, but if Ace doesn't want to tell him, that's his business. And also he can look it up himself later and get the full story.

“Well, thanks to _somebody_ getting in the way of my mission,” Sabo says pointedly, “I'm gonna have to improvise.”

“Okay, well, I'll just--”

“Oh, you're not getting out of it that easy,” Sabo says and slides the door of the cell open. “After what you just pulled? You’re helping.”  

Ace follows him out into the hall. “What I pulled?”

Sabo kneels and gets to work on the door of Jack’s cell. “Yes, what you pulled,” he says. “It's your fault my plan’s a no-go. You’re lucky I like you or else I’d be mad.”

“What did I do?” Ace asks as Sabo gets the lock to click. Jack’s backed up all the way to the back wall, cowering in a corner, but it's not like that's gonna help him.

Sabo meanders up to Jack, casually ducks the wild punch, and comes up with a disorienting slap across the jaw. Jack goes down hard and Sabo lightly bounces his head off the floor to make sure he stays that way. “I was in the middle of something,” he complains. “You showing up and yelling my name everywhere ruined it.”

“In the middle of what?” Ace asks, looking pointedly back at the cell. “What are you _doing_ here?”

“Interrogating him,” Sabo says, hauling Jack up and across his shoulders. “And now, thanks to you, we have to go do it somewhere else.”

“Is this what you do with your days?” Ace wonders, following him out of the jail.

Sabo sighs. “Only when I'm given free reign.”

“You never did get any less weird, did you, Sabo?”

“Would you stop saying my name?!” Sabo hisses at him, ducking down an alley. “You're the one who got me into this, so shut up and follow me!”

He leads them over a couple blocks, taking the back ways and pretending Jack’s just drunk, and they get to his safehouse without incident. It's not really safe, nor is it actually a house, but it's a factory he knows will be empty for the next couple days and that's good enough. Ace keeps trying to ask questions, and every time Sabo hisses in his general direction until he shuts up; he’s caused enough trouble already.

Sabo dumps Jack on the concrete and turns to Ace. “Stay,” he commands, and heads up to the second floor where there’s an office. There’s a metal chair there, and he carries it back down to see Ace poking at the unconscious Jack.

“Would you stop it?” he says, exasperated, and sets the chair up. Getting Jack onto it is easy, and he keeps rope on his person for just these sorts of occasions.

He produces handcuffs as well, just to be safe, and Ace drawls, “Carry those everywhere, do you? Something you wanna tell me?”

He throws a hand back to point in Ace’s general direction without looking. “You’ve lost all speaking privileges,” he says, and makes “ah!’ noises when Ace tries to keep talking.

He taps lightly on Jack’s cheek for a second, and when he starts to come around, Sabo stops. He turns to Ace and says, just a touch desperately, “Look, I really need this information, okay? If I don't get it Koala is going to skin me and then rub hot peppers over the remains, so just--just stand in the corner, shut up, and be intimidating. Can you do that?”

“Of course!” Ace beams. “I can be the most intimidating. Look at how intimidating I am!” He holds up a hand made of fire.

Sabo’s eyes stick on the flames for just a second, and he breathes out slowly. “Right,” he says, and breathes again. “Okay, great, just--that’s good. Yes. Just stand over there and be fire. And for the love of the Blues, _don’t talk.”_

Ace complies happily, probably because he thinks he's helping.

Sabo turns back to Jack. He’s stirring now, and it’s less than a minute before he’s completely awake. “Hi,” Sabo says, letting himself smile just a bit. “I’d do the introductions, but apparently you know my name already.”

Jack shifts uncomfortably, testing the knots. “I really don't?” he tries. “I don't know your name at all. Absolutely not. I'm suddenly amnesiac; I have no clue.”

Sabo gives that all the attention it deserves and says, “Sure you don’t. I just have a few questions for you.”

“I know nothing,” Jack immediately claims. “Whatever you want to know, I don't know it.”

I'm sure you don't,” Sabo says, “but I'm gonna ask anyway. You wanna talk to me? Cause otherwise my friend over here is a little...impatient.”

There's a flush of heat behind him that he knows is Ace showing off. As long as Ace shuts up and doesn't walk into his line of sight, it’s perfectly fine.

He makes sure to keep his eyes on Jack, and brings up a finger to run along Jack's jawline, right where the bruise is starting to come up. “So you wouldn't happen to know anything about that delivery your crew is making, then?”

Jack swallows and doesn’t quite meet his eyes. “No, of course not.”

“Now, see, I think you do,” Sabo says, low and light. “I think you know what you’re delivering, and to where. I think you know about how the deal was set up. I think you know _exactly_ what it's all about.”

“I really don't,” Jack says, but his lies are as weak as he is. Of course they are; Sabo picked him for a reason.

“Okay,” Sabo says easily, “Well, then, that's no problem.”

Jack squints up at him suspiciously. “It’s not?”

“Nope,” Sabo answers, “no problem at all.” He takes a few steps further in, making sure to keep his back to both of them as he says, “All yours, then.”

He listens to the footsteps that mean Ace is approaching and feels the warmth that means his brother's fire. He doesn’t look, though; he can’t afford to be distracted right now, and Ace on fire is _very_ distracting.

“Okay, okay!” Jack says. “I'll tell you! I'll tell!”

Sabo wait until the heat cuts out before he turns, smiling and clapping his hands. “Wonderful!” he says, spinning back in front of Jack and leaning in uncomfortably close. “I knew you’d see reason.”

“It's not that much,” Jack says, trying to lean back, “but the meeting is supposed to happen on Punk Hazard a week from now and it's for drugs.” His eyes are skittering, his fingers and twitching and he’s pale and sweating.

Sabo lets himself smile just as wide as he wants to, and then a bit wider. “See,” he says, “I think you're _still_ lying.”

“I swear I'm not!” Jack’s voice is now trembling just as much as he is.

Now Sabo’s making sure to keep Ace at his back for a different reason; Ace doesn't need to see the smile on his face. “I think you are though,” he says, allowing the space, “because that does not match what your friend told me. Do you want to try again?”

“I swear it's true!” Jack is trying to get away, but considering that Sabo knows his knots, it's not his most effective maneuver.

Sabo sighs elaborately and leans back. “Have you ever had a broken bone?” he asks and watches Jack’s eyes for the give-away. “Leg? No, arm, was it?” He lets his fingers trail over Jack's arm, across his shoulder, and then down. “Hurts, doesn’t it? But you know what hurts more? Delicate little bones. Like fingers,” and he lets his finger drop to Jack's knuckles. “They’re so thin and hard to heal, and you don't realize how much you move them until you can't anymore. Have you ever had a broken finger, Jack?”

“I swear I'm telling the truth,” Jack repeats. “Punk Hazard, a week from now! It’s drugs, it's something with the devil fruits! I don't know!”

“Jack, Jack, Jack. I really want to trust you, you know?”

“Then trust me! Please, just trust me!”

“But I _can't,”_  Sabo sighs, and taps his fingernail on a knuckle. “Maybe I should just make _sure.”_

Jack's a wimp. He's scared of physical pain, and he's never gonna go for it; that’s why Sabo picked him in the first place. He knows how to threaten: start small, never threaten anything you can’t or won’t do, and follow through if you have to. Still, it's no surprise to him when Jack decides not to test him and instead chokes out, “Clown.”

“Clown,” Sabo repeats skeptically, pulling back just a bit.

“Some guy named Clown!” Jack says. “We're supposed to deliver the shipment to him! I don't know, it's something to do with Devil fruits, I'm just a grunt! I really don’t know!”

Sabo looks at him thoughtfully, draws back his hands, and then pats Jack twice on the cheek. “See, was that so hard?” he says brightly and then claps cupped palms over Jack’s ears. Jack immediately slumps down into the chair, unconscious.

Ace falls into step with him as they leave the factory. “Just gonna leave him there?” he asks.

Sabo shrugs. “Yeah,” he says. “He'll get out eventually.” Or he won't, but either way it's not Sabo’s problem anymore, and there’s not much time left to the rendezvous.

“You know,” Ace says as they meander back into town, “you always were a good liar but you really have gotten better at it.”

Sabo freezes his face and checks his smile. “Lying, right. You learn to lie like that when you’re a super secret spy. Not all of us can turn into fire at a moment’s thought.”

“It’s pretty handy,” Ace agrees happily, playing with a bit of fire in his palm. “I can fly with it a bit, you know?”

“Yes, I know,” Sabo says, exasperated. “You're not exactly subtle, Ace; I don't have to go out of my way to track you.”

“But you do anyway,” Ace says, smiling at him, and Sabo allows the point because yes, he does anyway.

He's not really thinking about it, enjoying the back-and-forth with Ace, and the badness of the idea doesn't register with him until they get to the meeting spot and Koala is already there.

“Hi Koala,” he says, and watches her pretend not to know him. “Hel _looooo_ ,” he repeats just to be super obnoxious. “Hey, I got the information.”

Finally she gives up on her cover and turns, and her upset face is epic. "Oi, bluebell, what went wrong this time? Who's this?"

"Koala, this is my brother, Ace. He is awful and everything about today is his fault but I got the information, really I did!"

"...brother?" She repeats.

Ah, yeah, he didn’t actually tell her--or anyone, really--about that whole amnesia fading thing. "Oh, I, uh...actually remember stuff now?”

She looks him up and down, then sighs. "You and me, goggle-face, we need to have A Talk."

Sabo winces a bit, because Koala’s Talks are a thing to be feared. Ace catches it, and "Sabo,” he says, ignoring the way they both flinch a tiny bit. “Who is this girl? She is _amazing_."

"Ah, nope, no, haha, actually, why don't we just leave--"

She bonks him on the back of his head at exactly the right angle to make him faceplant into the sidewalk. "Ace, was it?” she asks, like she doesn’t know everything there is to know about Fire-Fist Ace. She loops her arm through his and starts walking. “C'mon, let's go get dinner. I have so many stories of him being dumb; let's trade."

"Oooowww!” Sabo whines halfheartedly, sitting up and rubbing his nose. “Koala, why so violent? Why are you like this?"

Ace looks back at him, sitting crosslegged on the pavement with a crooked hat and a smushed face, and then turns to her. "Your name is Koala? Marry me."

_"Ace!"_

~@~

He lets them go ahead because he knows where she's taking him. It's the same restaurant they ate at last night; little, quaint, quiet, out-of-the-way, and the owner is an informant for the Revolutionary Army.

He takes his time meandering behind them, a couple blocks back, and drops what he needs to in just the right ears. It doesn't take too long, and he catches up with them as they're ordering their second round of food

He drops into his chair in just enough time to hear Koala finish up with, “--so he pretended to shake out the dirty handkerchief all over the kid and candy fell out, so they started calling him Mr. Sugar Nose and demanding he sneeze on them. That was one mob he didn't get away from."

“Koala, did you really have to tell him about that?” he groans, but he already knows she did.

She beams at him and Ace is laughing heartily. “She is my new favorite,” he declares. “You’re only allowed to visit again if you bring her.”

Sabo clutches hands over his chest like he's heartbroken. “Betrayer,” he accuses. “Heathen. Heretic. How very very dare you.”

Ace shrugs, unrepentant, and that sets the tone for the whole night.

They eat and drink and eat and eat and eat and then finally discuss plans. “I really ought to get back,” Ace sighs eventually, and Sabo sits back in his chair.

“Let us take you,” he says and it's not an offer so much as a command.

Koala shoots him a look but stays silent. She knows when he’s up to something and is curious enough to let it play out, which is fair enough.

“You don't need to,” Ace says, quiet and serious and eyes on Sabo.

Sabo puts on his bright big grin and says, “Of course I do! Who knows what trouble you'll get into if I'm not there?”

Ace laughs, which was the goal, and says, “You just want an excuse to drop by, don't you?”

Sabo pretends an unaffectedness so obvious even Ace sees through it. “Why ever what I want to do that?”

Ace rolls his eyes. “Oh, I don't know, Haruta, maybe?”

Sabo stares at him blankly for second until the name connects with _cheerful-ruffles-intelligence officer-flirt_ and he goes, “Oh! Right, Haruta, yes. Totally.”

Ace's eyebrows leap. “Okay, obviously not that.”

Sabo gives that the eyebrow it deserves, and Ace flounders. “Marco?” he asks and Sabo tilts his head back-and-forth for second and then shrugs.

“Yeah, sure, Marco. I like him better than you anyway.”

Ace sighs. “You really have to stop with the lying.”

“Never,” Sabo promises.

 

* * *

 

They do get back to the Moby Dick.

Eventually.

 

* * *

 

The second they hit the deck of the Moby Dick, Sabo knows he's miscalculated, but it’s too late for regrets.

“Marco!” Ace says brightly. “Hey, I’m back!”

Marco immediately sighs and asks, “What did you break this time?”

Ace huffs in annoyance. “I didn't break anything!” he says and Sabo laughs.

“Try the town of North Corus,” he says.

“Hey, it was only a little bit!”

“Something to the tune of four million belli,” Koala points out. “That's not a little.”

Marco tugs at his hair and takes a deep breath. “Okay,” he says. “Okay, sure, yoi. And who is this now?”

Ace beams and pushes Koala forward. “This is Koala!” he says, because he refuses to learn his lesson about names, even after all of that mess.

“Hello,” she says politely anyway. “I'm this lout’s partner,” jerking her thumb over her shoulder at Sabo, and then she finishes up with a bow and, “Please forgive the intrusion.”

“She knows all the best stories,” Ace says. “She's my favorite.”

“What am I, then?” Sabo mutters in the background, but he doesn't do anything about it.

Marco looks over all three of them and sighs. “Are you gonna be trouble again?” he asks

“No,” Sabo says. “We're not staying. I just wanted a quick word,” and proceeds to stare at him.

Marco winces. “Look, this is not my fault! I tried, yoi!”

Sabo grins at him, that same grin he gave Jack back in the warehouse. “Of course it's not,” he agrees pleasantly. Marco looks disturbed. Good. Marco’s pretty smart.

“Won't happen again,” Marco promises and Sabo’s grin stretches a little bit wider and does not reach his eyes.

“Of course it won't,” he repeats mildly, holding the moment.

Koala grabs the brim of his hat and tugs it down over his face, completely ruining any chance he had at being threatening. “Shut your face,” she says. “You and your smile. Don't even.”

Sabo sputters and flails for a second. “Koala, I'm trying to do a thing here!”

She rolls her eyes. “Well, you’re failing, so you can stop with the face and the grin.”

Marco stares at them for second and then turns to Ace. “I see why she's your favorite.”

“Right?! Just wait ‘til she meets Thatch!”

“No need to wait, yoi,” Marco says. “Here he comes now.”

And indeed, Thatch is bounding up the deck towards them. “Ace!” he calls out, and then follows it up with, “Oh, great, and you're here again, too.”

Sabo beams, sweeps his hat off and makes his very best leg. “At your service!” he says, just to really rub it in.

Koala sighs, then reaches over and grabs the back of his neck, pushing down and forward just enough to make him stumble and fall flat on his face. Again.

Thatch immediately turns to her and says, “I love you.”

She smiles sweetly back at him, which is all lies, and says “It's a pleasure to meet you.”

Sabo grumbles a bit from his place on the deck and finally manages to sit up. His hat is more than a little bit squished, and he runs careful fingers over the fabric. “No fair,” he whines.

“We're keeping you,” Thatch declares, and Koala beams back at him with more of her sweet lying face.

“I'm afraid we really can't stay,” she says, and even manages to sound sad about it. “We're already a bit late….”

“No, you absolutely must,” Thatch says. “Please! At least for dinner; I insist.”

“Well, if you insist,” she agrees demurely.

Sabo watches this happen from his seat on the deck and trades incredulous glances with Ace. “How come I never got that kind of welcome?” he asks, and Ace shrugs at him.

Thatch turns a wagging finger in his direction and says, “Because you're a horror and a disaster, and she is a delight and sunshine and magic.”

“She's a better liar, is what she is,” Sabo grumbles, and Thatch ignores him entirely.

“Do you like fish?” he asks her instead. “Spicy or not spicy?”

She all but sparkles at him and says, “Whatever your specialty is. I trust that you’re a magnificent cook.”

Sabo watches Thatch practically inflate before his eyes, and Ace leans over to say, “She really is good at that.”

“I know,” Sabo says, dropping the pouty act and standing back up. “That's why we're partners.”

They watch her charm the crew for a while, and Fossa comes over, and Izo. Koala murmurs something, smile demure but eyes wicked, and everyone laughs. Haruta comes bounding in, nearly causing a crash, and there’s more happy laughter. Beside him, Ace starts to shift in a little way that Sabo knows too well.

He looks over at Sabo and eventually finds the words to ask, "So this...is this how you felt when you saw me with them?"

Sabo smiles, just a bit, when he says, "Oh, what, the simmering resentment, baseless betrayal, and clawing jealousy?"

Ace blinks. "Uh. Well. Yeah."

He sighs because, "Yeah, just about."

"I give you so much more credit now. Does it, y'know, go away?"

"Nope. Becomes slightly more manageable, but nope."

"...huh."

"But you are also like ten times more emotionally stable than me, so, y'know, maybe for you it will?"

"No, I'm so not--"

Koala wanders over in just enough time to interrupt everything. "What are you dorks talking about over here?" she asks, propping a hand on her hip and giving them a warning look.

"Uhhhhh--"

While Ace fumbles for an explanation, Sabo twists his shoulders enough to cheat in, leans forward just enough to be a tiny bit in front of Ace, and then sweeps off his hat just dramatically enough to be the perfect distraction. "Just pining over you, darling," he says, and offers an over-the-top wink.

Koala makes a face at him. "Ugh, you know better than to try lying to me,” she says, for all he really doesn’t. “Fine, have your secret bro talk, then. I’ll go find someone else to befriend. Bye."

They watch her wander off, and Sabo twirls his hat once before resettling it on his head. He sighs and waits; Ace has on his thinky-face and wants to say a thing at him, he can tell.

Ace does, starting slowly. "....is--is this how you live your whole life? Telling the truth so that no one will believe you?"

"Pretty much."

"Okay, I take it back. You were right; I am more emotionally stable than you."

Sabo huffs a bit and reminds him, "I'm always right."

Ace’s fingers are twitching at his sides, and he’s making his upset scowly face, so Sabo turns to him and says, “Looks like we got some time to kill, then. Wanna?”

Ace turns to him, blinking in confusion, and Sabo sighs. He can’t possibly have forgotten; between them, “wanna?" only ever meant one thing.

He steps away just far enough, turns sharply, and falls into stance easy as blinking. It takes Ace that long to realize, but the second he does, he lights up and happily skips back a couple steps.

"No fruit," Sabo decrees.

"But haki's fair game," Ace counters, and they both nod. "Ready or not, here I come!" Ace carols, and jumps straight into a tackle. Sabo twists away, grinning, and the fight is on.

It's been a long time since Sabo fought like this, he thinks absently, wild and careless and just for kicks. They're scrapping, more than fighting, and using the old dumb moves that 7-year-olds thought were cool. It's sloppy, far too fast, and Sabo forgoes his usual smart style for pure offense. There's blood in his mouth, there’ll be a mouse under his eye for days, and he can't recall the last time he had so much fun.

Ace goes for a low spinning sweep and Sabo pounces over it, aiming for Ace’s shoulders, and they crash onto the deck in a messy pile. Ace gets his fingers in place to stretch out Sabo’s cheeks like he’s Luffy, and Sabo’s trying to shove Ace’s head into the deck and bite the fingers all at once.

Suddenly a weight slams into the back of his head, and he slams forward into Ace’s forehead, and they both collapse. “Stop it,” Koala says, a belated warning. “Don’t you boys be fighting over me.”

Sabo’s seeing stars, and he bares his bloody teeth in something that’s not quite a grin. “We’re not,” he says. “We’d never.”

Ace just groans miserably.

Koala looks at them suspiciously. "Suuuure. Now stop being childish or I'll make Haruta my new favorite."

Haruta pops up behind her shoulder and says, "Please keep it up!"

"Shut up, Haruta," Ace and Sabo both snarl in unison, and Sabo's eyes are almost uncrossed. Koala's gonna give him a concussion one day, he just knows it. It probably won't even be an accident.

"Oh, nice to see you two cooperating again. Maybe I won't ditch you on the dingy like yesterday on Grand Dell--"

"Okay but shut up though--"

"--wasn't even a thing that happened--"

"--even know what you're talking about--"

"--his fault anyway--"

"Wait, say what now--"

And then they're trying to fight again. Koala sighs and lets them flail miserably at each other, grabbing Haruta’s arm and tugging. “Let’s go,” she says, exasperated. “This’ll take a while. Let's find Izo, I wanna try that nail paint he mentioned.”

From somewhere beyond the swaying of the deck and the spin of the sky, Sabo hears Thatch talking, presumably to Marco. "Can I be her when I grow up?" he asks, and Sabo gives up, collapses back, and closes his eyes.

At least Ace is making low pained noises beside him. At least he's not alone. "Is she always that violent?" Ace whimpers, and Sabo drops a wrist over his eyelids so the darkness is voluntary.

"She likes you a lot," he says, quietly but sincere. "She's going far easier on you than she ever does on me."

"...I hate your life for you."

 

* * *

 

At dinner that night, Ace and Sabo are exiled to the small broken table in the corner. Commanders occasionally drop off plates, but it's mostly to show off the really cute animal art on their nails.

Blamenco catches them staring balefully at the cat head on his thumb, and he grins and flourishes it. "Marco's really good at nail art," he confides, and even this can't cheer either boy up. They eat in silence, radiating misery and pain, and across the hall Koala just laughs at them.

 

* * *

 

Koala strides into HQ, and Sabo bobs along in her wake. On the one hand, it wasn’t supposed to have gone like that, but on the other, there’s really no other way it could have gone.

Still, Koala’s never been one to forgive or forget, and Sabo knows there’s still piles of revenge coming. They’ve never pulled their punches with one another, and any weakness is just an edge waiting to be used.

For now, however, she just settles for stopping right in the most crowded part of the lobby and saying very loudly, “Are you still sulking because I wouldn’t give you a cute glittery manicure like you wanted?”

Sabo tilts his hat down and hides in it. “But why are you like this?” he asks plaintively, and she only laughs in his face. He slinks away towards his office, where at least he won’t be able to hear the giggles of everyone he ever respected or the death rattle of his dignity.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> irrelevant and unnecessary thought:
> 
> do you think that garp has these, like, magical dreams where all three of the brats are marines under him and in charge of things? and he leads them all out together with him at the head, the three behind him, and their divisions behind them, and they bring Justice to the world in one massive shining swoop and he's basically crying for joy the whole time because sometime in the middle the three surpassed him and it's him standing behind them by the end at Raftel, all pirates brought to justice, backs straight and white uniforms shining? and then he wakes up to a reality where Luffy's a pirate and Sabo's entire goal is to bring him down and Ace is _dead_. 
> 
> what if tho.


	5. dumb bros, interrupted

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sabo hides his broken poorly, Dragon cameos, Koala continues to be the best, and Ace is The Most Dumb Forever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> gettin' dark here folks, hang on

It’s been a long day, Sabo thinks, and blinks away the swimminess of his vision. Long month, even, but he still has to review the captains’ reports, approve supply requests, and hammer out a SOP with the squad leaders and Marie and Johnson just _never_ agree, and all that before dinner, because after dinner--

He groans and lets his forehead meet the desk. He really oughtn’t’ve taken the promotion, he knows, because being the head of anything is going to run him raw and crazy, he can already tell. Surprisingly, being in charge of a bunch of militant rebels fighting any and all authority is not sunshine and roses. Who knew?

He hasn’t slept since the trip back from the last mission, the headache behind his eyes has grown from _ow_ to _nasty_ and the pile of papers on his desk seems to multiply every time he blinks. He can’t even find a pen to sign this batch of reports with, and it’s _not fair._

The alarm screaming jolts him back upright, things scatter off his desk, and he blinks the disorientation of the sudden adrenalin away. There’s obviously something going on; he should--

His office door opens and he’s reaching for the pistol in his drawer on instinct, but then Koala’s head pops in and she says, “Intruder alert, we think; be on watch but you’re not needed.”

Well. Good. Okay. He looks back down at the draft of the squad leaders’ agreement and reads the same sentence a couple of times without processing anything. At least there’s a pen, now; it was probably under his hat which now on the floor somewhere and he should do something about that too, probably, but the reports…

His head hits the paper again. Maybe if he closes his eyes for a second, he’ll be able to read better.

There’s a click-pop behind him and he instinctively reaches for the pistol again because that’s the sound of his window opening. He should maybe lock it, but he’s on the fourth floor and it’s just too handy as an escape route; only people he trusts know to use it as an entrance, really. “Wha’?” he asks muzzily, head raising a few inches off the paper and pistol half-out of the drawer.

“Shhh, s’just me,” says a voice that means comfort. Sabo makes a noise, closes the drawer again, and resettles into his chair. “C’mon down here a sec,” it continues, and he agrees; chairs aren’t great for naps.

Not that he’s napping, but he can’t concentrate with the alarm still going, is all, so just a short break--

Warmth wraps around him, his back is against his very solid and extremely heavy desk, and the familiar weight beside him is comforting. It’s easy to let go, knowing someone else is there to take the watch. “I got you, bro,” he hears quietly, and then it’s so easy to turn into that heat, just for a minute.

He barely blinks before Koala slams the door of his office open again to announce, “We haven't found the intruder.” It startles him right out of his dream, and that’s not right at all. He generally doesn't sleep quite this deeply, he thinks, and especially not in his office of all places.

“What?” he manages to ask before yawning.

“The intruder!” Koala exclaims, moving forward as Sabo tries to stretch. Limbs get in his way and instead he tucks his head further down, still exhausted. His pillow is a shoulder, he thinks, and wonders vaguely where his hat went. “Aren't you worried?” Koala asks, and then she rounds the corner of the desk and sees them both on the ground. “Oh.”

Sabo mumbles something that might be an explanation, her name, or possibly an apology. It is that last one, actually, but she doesn't need to know that.

“Right,” she says. “Should've seen that coming. I'll just go call off the alarm, then, and tell everyone I found you cuddling the intruder on the floor, shall I?”

“You're the best!” Ace calls after her. “Thanks, sis!”

“I hate you!” she yells over her shoulder, waving, but still makes sure to close the door quietly on the way out.

Ace chuckles, and the sound resonates in his chest. Sabo can hear it from where he's laying. “She doesn't really hate me,” he says like Sabo doesn't know his partner better than Ace does.

“Of course she does,” he answers, just out of spite.

Ace laughs again and the sound of it lulls Sabo right back to sleep.

It really has been a long month.

 

* * *

 

The good news is, with the base on alert looking for the intruder napping in Sabo’s office, all the meetings and deadlines he missed got pushed back. On the one hand, at least he got some sleep, but on the other, the work is still there, waiting.

He eyes the papers scattered on the floor, but fixing it would involve such awful concepts as _standing up_ and _moving_. Surely, he decides, it’s less important than his suddenly-appearing brother, so he looks at Ace instead. "You couldn't have knocked?"

"Payback."

"...Fair,” he decides, because it is. However. “You know, Koala’s telling everyone I captured the intruder single-handedly.”

Ace laughs and shifts a bit, letting them separate. Sabo rolls his shoulders, stretches his arms, and barely hides a yawn. “That’s not the story she’s spreading and you know it,” he says. “More like you got captured yourself and held hostage for naptime or something.”

That sounds more accurate but Sabo likes it less, so he ignores it. He feels an awful lot better for that nap, at least, and finally manages to stand up.

Ace follows him and they collect all the papers and things that had fallen off Sabo’s desk earlier. Ace leaving the window open had only contributed to the mess, but if the wind had stolen some papers, Sabo would deal with it later. Ace hands him his hat and he eyes it critically; looks none the worse for the wear, and he perches it back on the special spot on his desk reserved for it.

He props his hands on hips and surveys his domain; everything is more or less in order in his office, except for the inexplicably present pirate.

"Ace. What are you even doing here, for real though?" he asks, and Ace turns serious. His brows draw down and his eyes slide away and his fists clench, and just for a single second, Sabo can see a familiar rage burning clear across his brother's face.

It's not okay. Ace should never have to feel that. Ace should never know that kind of seething, creeping hatred that sits against the soul and creeps into nightmares and stray thoughts. It's infectious, he knows, and once the seed is planted it never ever goes away.

That's the look on Ace's face in that moment, the look that Sabo hides in the mirror, and _whoever caused it is going to die._

"Thatch--" Ace says, choking on the name. Sabo makes the most soothing hum he can, and presses his side against his brother's. "There's this guy, right? He was in my Division, my responsibility; his name is Teach. I don't think you ever met him? He was gone over New Year’s."

Sabo shakes his head; he never met anyone by that name, he's pretty sure. Ace nods and continues. "So Thatch found a, a devil fruit, and Teach wanted it, and Teach--"

That's all Sabo needs, which is good 'cause that's all Ace is capable of. Sabo casts his mind back a few months, trying to remember. His impression of his last conversation with Thatch is just a mess of frustration-regret-jealousy-respect-humor.

Ace breathes in, careful and slow. When Sabo looks over, there's an ember in his eyes that burns Sabo right down to his insides. "Help me find Teach," he says.

Sabo breathes, Sabo nods, and Sabo very carefully doesn't say, _anything._

“Thanks,” Ace says, and has to take a second to breathe. “It means—thanks.”

“Of course,” Sabo says briskly, “You knew I would. C’mon, let’s go talk to some people. Close the window, would you?”

While Ace is doing that, he grabs his coat off the chair back and pats down his pockets. He came straight to his office after his last mission, so most of his kit is still on him and it’ll be enough. He snags his hat on the way out the door, just in case.

The hallway is empty, but the alarm finally shuts off so at least there’s that. He’s already making a list of people he needs to find when they turn the corner. He stops suddenly and grabs Ace’s wrist to drag him to a halt as well. “We’re gonna be talking to a lot of people,” he starts, then reconsiders. “No, _I’m_ going to be talking to a lot of people. You’re going to talk to no one, okay?”

Ace rolls his eyes like Sabo’s concern is unfounded, which no, it isn’t, it’s an extremely valid concern. “Ace, seriously, I mean it. Don’t talk to anyone, don’t draw attention, don’t be fire, and just...try not to notice anything about anyone?”

Ace puts on his thinky-face and meets Sabo’s eyes. “Is this like the name thing?” he asks.

“Yes, it’s like the name thing,” Sabo says, relieved that Ace is making these connections all by himself at long last. He starts moving again and Ace falls in just behind him. “I know you think subtleties are a type of sweet but--”

Ace sputters behind him, and he steps double-quick to dodge the flailing. “That’s because _you told_ _me_ that--”

“--not my fault you didn’t know the more common definition first--”

“ _\--you_ told me, you _said_ \--”

“And that’s your first problem,” Koala breaks in, melting out of the shadows to fall in beside Ace. “You trusted Sabo, and Sabo lies.”

“That wasn’t actually a lie,” Sabo points out, oddly stung. He really hadn’t been trying to trick Ace back then, when Ace had asked what the delicate little marzipan swans he’d sneaked from that party were called. “That’s an actual thing, you know.”

“I know that _now_ ,” Ace says. “Found out the hard way, and no one believed me that it was also a food.” Sabo cackles at the thought of Ace asking random people for subtleties to eat and Koala just shakes her head and sighs. “When I asked Thatch, he--” and Ace stops there, swallowing hard.

“Right,” Sabo cuts in. “Koala, can you take Ace to the commissary? I’ve gotta go talk to some people.”

“No,” Ace says, and if his voice is heavy, his eyes are dry and hard. “You don’t need to.”

Sabo catches his gaze for a second, and then nods. There’s a lot Ace needs to be protected from, but not from Sabo, not any longer. Right now, what Ace needs is the Chief of Staff of the Revolutionary Army, so that’s what Sabo will be. He takes a breath and refocuses. “Right, okay then. Koala, I need everything we have on a former Whitebeard pirate, Teach--”

“Marshall D. Teach,” Ace supplies.

“--second division, no recorded fruit. I want--”

“--bounties, history, the usual,” Koala says, and she snaps off a salute. “Yessir.” She turns on her heel and trots off.

They’ve reached the main hall by now, and Sabo snags the arm of a passing guy. “Hikeki, get me Selma; send her to the Planning Room. Cooper, is Squad Three back yet? Good, get them to Operations in two hours. Emil! Any teams currently out towards West Anges? Who’s in South Blue? C’mon people, we’ve got a manhunt to start!”

It’s gratifying to watch everyone jump to, and by the time he gets to Planning, Selma’s there with the most current bounty updates. There's an order to the chaos swirling around him, and this, he knows, is why he took that promotion. This is where he thrives, living on the edge of deadlines and information and movement, where lives hang heavy in counterpoint to freedom.

This is his storm, to cause and to ride, and he _does_. Mobilizing everyone is a matter of balancing schedules and specialties, collating information means knowing who to ask what, and the whole thing is a mess of delegation and yelling, and he owes Koala so much for stepping up to be his deputy without waiting for him to ask.

He makes a mental note to find out where those little fruit tarts come from, the ones in the break room she pretends she doesn’t love, but that’s for later.

Ace is a strong and quiet presence behind him, keeping him focused and watching his back. It’s both relieving and stressful, and the low buzz of power and fury in his veins keeps him grounded.

At least, until he looks up from his makeshift map and into a familiar swirl of ink. “Hey, kid,” comes a soft drawl. “Wanna tell me why we’re starting a world-wide manhunt for a complete unknown?”

Sabo absently grimaces at the _kid_ and steps aside to gesture Ace forward. "Ace, this is Monkey D Dragon, Luffy's dad. And my boss. And also wanted a lot, I think, but that's not important. Stop scowling and greet him properly, I know you know how.”

Ace doesn’t stop scowling, but he does bow and say politely, “It’s nice to meet you. And thanks for Luffy, I guess."

Dragon eyes him, then blinks noncommittally. "......hmm."

Sabo sighs, and then Kairi skids to a stop in front of him, breathlessly offering a summary, a map, and a stack of papers.  It’s the last thing he needs to get this going, and all the possibilities coalesce into a single path. “Koala--”

She’s suddenly there and snatching the papers out of his hand. “Boat’ll be ready in thirty,” she says, and she strides away with such force that people part to clear her way.

He’s so blindingly thankful to her in that moment, and he turns to Ace and says, “Remind me to get her those fruit tarts later.”

Ace breaks off halfway through a sentence to Dragon about Teach to side-eye him. “You two have the weirdest relationship,” he says like Sabo doesn’t already know.

Ignoring him, Sabo turns to Dragon. “We’re starting a manhunt because we have someone who, by all accounts, murdered family for the Dark-Dark Fruit and declared he wanted to end this age. He’s powerful, a loose cannon, potentially useful, and it would be a very bad idea to not know where he is.”

Dragon’s calm, and his eyes flick to Ace when he asks, ”So it’s not personal?”

Sabo owes this man his life and his duty and his loyalty, but more than that, he doesn’t want to hide this. He meets Dragon’s eyes and his grin is sharp with vengeance and anger. “Hell _yes_ it’s personal.”

And then Sabo pauses a beat, waiting to see if Dragon will shut him down or tell him no. But his reasoning is sound and Teach is a threat and the fact that it’s a personal vendetta does not negate that, so Dragon’s nod is not much of a surprise. He does say, “In the morning, though. Sleep tonight.”

Sabo shakes his head. “I can sleep on the way,” he says, Ace’s presence burning warm behind him.

But it’s Ace who lays a hand on his shoulder and says, “It can wait until morning. It’s fine, Sabo.”

He turns to properly face his brother, not understanding. “I said I was going to find him for you,” he protests, and Ace nods and runs his hand down to rub soothingly at Sabo’s upper arm.

“And you have, and you will,” Ace points out. “So let’s eat and sleep and then go.”

“But you’re not this patient,” Sabo says blankly.

“And you’re not this stupid. When I showed up, you needed a nap so bad you almost didn’t even shoot me.”

“Yeah, but you need this, Ace! Don’t pretend you don’t.”

Ace is staring at him like he’s dumb, and his hand is still a hot point of contact. “I need you functional more,” he says. “The fact that we’re even having this argument is proof enough you’re too tired to leave now.”

“He’s right, kid,” Dragon says too, the _traitor_. “Go eat, get some sleep, and you can be on the dawn tide out, okay?”

It’s not okay, but they’re right; he’s been running off the high and little else. “Fine,” he says, and tugs his coat lapels straight. “Let’s eat and then discuss.” It’s a poor capitulation, but Ace grins like he knows it’s a victory.

 

* * *

 

Sabo is looking exhausted by this point, but Ace knows how to deal with that. He waits until the hubbub in the room has died down and most people have left, and then pokes Sabo in the side.

“Hey,” he says, and watches Sabo pretend not to notice. “Hey. Hey. Hey. Hey.”

Sabo sighs and puts down the same piece of paper he’s been reading for the past ten minutes. “What.”

“M’hungry,” Ace says, and grins brightly. “C’mon, let’s hunt.”

Sabo mumbles something about hunting and needs and cafeterias, but Ace remembers their “hunt” on the _Moby Dick_  and says nothing. He just waits while Sabo stands, straightens his coat, and tilts his hat. The brim is sitting somewhere between _mess with me I dare you_ and _too tired to let you see my eyes_ , which Ace takes as confirmation that he’ll win the sleeping fight.

He lets Sabo lead them down a maze of hallways, content to follow along and observe. Everything here is organized and sterile and a stark difference from any pirate ship he’s ever been on. The walls are stone, the windows few, and the shadows deep.

The food, once they find it, is plain but plentiful. The cooks are clearly familiar with Sabo and don’t hesitate to load up both their trays, and Ace has a single second of blinding hatred when he hears an echo of a memory of a complaint.

Sabo’s got his back, though, as always, and elbows him out of it. They head to a small table in the corner, and it ends up tasting about as bland as he expected it would.

“Beggars can’t be choosers,” Sabo informs him in one of those awful displays of mind reading.

Ace shrugs and downs another bowl of mashed potato-like substance. “Wasn’t gonna say anything.”

“You didn’t need to, did you?” Sabo snipes back, but quietly nudges the pepper over closer anyway.

Koala joins them halfway through, and Ace makes sure to swallow before he smiles at her and says, “It’s so good to see you again, Koala.”

“Yeah, you too,” she answers, She’s got a mug of something brown and warm. “Boat’s ready. Just gotta get the supplies and pack it up. High tide ends in an hour, and next one is right before dawn.”

“We’ll take that one,” Sabo says, and then blatantly steals the last baked apple right off of Ace’s plate. Ace glances at the bags under his eyes, more noticeable without that manic light in them, and lets him get away with it. He sticks out his tongue and Ace does it right back.

“You two are children,” Koala informs them.

“You’re the one drinking hot chocolate,” Sabo says.

She sets down the mug carefully, then places her chin on one upturned hand and smiles sweetly. “Say something bad about hot chocolate. Go on.”

Sabo blinks, then gives her his big fake grin. “It’s better with spicy powder in it.”

She snorts but drops her posture to raise her mug. “You keep saying that like one day I’ll fall for it.”

“It really is, though,” Ace says quietly. “Just a little. Cuts the sweet and adds a slight kick, just enough to help you get warm. We used to drink it like that as kids. Our caretakers made it during storms, sometimes.”

Koala blinks at him, then glances back at Sabo, whose grin has gone brittle. “Huh. Maybe I will try that, then.”

She’s quiet and contemplative while they finish eating, and Ace lets Sabo steal as much as he wants off his plate. When they’re both done, he clears his throat and says, “By the way, Marco’s mad at you.”

Sabo wipes his mouth then shoots Ace a smug little smile. “The card thing?”

“The card thing?” Koala repeats even as Ace nods.

“How’d’you think he knew which window to climb in?” Sabo asks, waving idly towards Ace.

Koala’s jaw sets forward and she says lowly, “You _didn’t_ give him a vivre card.”

“Nope, he gave one to Marco,” Ace tells her because he knows it’s the worst possible thing to say. Hey, someone’s gotta curb Sabo’s wilder ideas when he’s not around, right?

“You just handed one of the most wanted pirate crews a vivre card that points directly to the secret base of the entire Revolutionary Army.”

Sabo meets her gaze head on and says calmly, “No. I handed Marco a vivre card with my den den mushi number on it. He knows how we are and that it was dangerous, so he would’ve hidden it properly, if not destroyed it. The only reason he’d have to pull it out, ever, was if he or Ace really needed me.”

“Which is what happened,” Ace puts in. “When I tried to go off after--after Teach alone, he pulled me aside and gave it to me. Didn’t even know it was a vivre card until I noticed it.”

Koala sighs and uses one hand to rub at the bridge of her nose. “Ace,” she says, “I like you a lot, but you make Sabo _dumb_.”

Ace nods. He knows. Sabo makes him dumb, too, but Sabo also has so much more riding on him than Ace does.

Sabo’s got on his stubborn face, though, and he says, “It was not dumb. It was calculated, and anyway, it’s my risk to take.”

“No! It’s not!” She’s keeping her voice low, but it’s sharp. “You put the lives of every person in this base at risk with that! This isn’t just about you!”

“It was never about me,” Sabo says, quiet in kind but cold and precise. “It’s about _Ace_ , and I knew what I was doing when I did it.”

“Sabo, you can’t--” Ace starts, sick with the thought that Sabo had long ago measured every life here against Ace’s and found the former wanting.

“Yes,” Sabo says, “I can. I can, and I have, and I did, and I _will_. I lost you once, Ace. I lost you and forgot you and Luffy. I let you both suffer and grow up alone. I made you cry and I broke Luffy’s heart, and I can never make that okay. But I can and I will do everything in my power to make sure it never happens again.”

Ace blinks, then swallows, then says, “I’m-not okay with that.”

“I don’t care.”

Koala puts both palms flat on the table and stands up. “Okay,” she says, then straightens up and exhales. “Okay,” she says again, then, “I’ll go check the boat again,” and she walks away and doesn’t look back.

Sabo starts to gather the empty plates back on the trays, and Ace sits, watching, eyes focused on the small tremor in those usually-steady hands. “Sabo,” he says, and has nothing to add.

“Don’t, Ace,” he says, and then he sighs. “C’mon, let’s get some sleep, then. Dormitory’s this way.”

Ace follows quietly. They come to a large room with multiple rows of beds in a darkened sort of gloom, and Sabo heads to the one in the far corner. He sets his hat upside down beside it and rolls up the report and maps they’ll need for tomorrow. Ace sets his hat right-side-up on top to hide them, and then sits beside Sabo.

Both their backs are to the stone wall, and Sabo says quietly into the dark, “I’m not sorry.”

Ace tugs him over until his head rests against Ace’s shoulder. “I love you too,” he says back.

He breathes for a while, counting to keep it even, and Sabo falls asleep deep and fast. That’s good, though. Ace stays like that for as long as he dares, keeping his brother warm and safe.

Then he carefully tilts Sabo back to learn more against the wall and slips out. The papers are right there, and he snags them and his hat and heads out the door. He can definitely find his way back to the commissary or to where he left the Striker, and everyone knows he’s here with Sabo; he shouldn’t have any trouble getting directions.

This is his fight, and he’s not going to let this become another thing for Sabo to worry over. Sabo would burn down the world for him, so it’s only right that Ace saves him from himself.

 

* * *

 

Sabo wakes up late. His eyes are gritty and it takes him two massive yawns to open his eyes. It’s a small dent in his sleep debt, but he can nap on the boat; maybe he’ll get Ace to save him some breakfast.

Only Ace isn’t there. The bed’s empty, except for him. Ace probably went to get food and let him sleep, he thinks; Ace is a bit of a mother hen that way.

He snags his hat and steps out into the hall and glances out the nearest window. It’s nearly dawn; he’ll have just enough time to drop by the commissary for some food and Ace, then--

“Morning, Chief! Didn’t you leave?”

Sabo turns slowly, a quiet suspicion growing insidiously behind his fears. “What do you mean?” he asks, more or less calmly.

Hiroto blinks at him. “That guy, Fire Fist Ace, said he was bringing you the log pose, like, hours ago.”

“You gave him. The log pose.”

“Well, yeah? He was gathering the supplies and everything, and he was part of the planning…?”

“I,” says Sabo.

“How,” says Sabo.

“He just--,” says Sabo, and then he closes his eyes and clasps his hands together behind him.

He exhales sharply, opens his eyes, and does not unlace his fingers. “Please,” he says, eyes unfocused and voice precise, “would you be so kind as to find Koala and inform her that I request her presence in my office at her earliest convenience.”

He turns on the ball of his foot and blocks out everything. He’s hyperfocused on his breathing and the twisting of his fingers and the sound of his boots on the stone. He can make it to his office. It isn’t far.

He can make it. He has to.

“Oh, Hiroto. One more thing.”

 

* * *

 

“Uh, ma’am?”

Koala looks up from double-checking the supply list. It’s that guy from the analytics department, the new one, and she can’t quite remember his name. “Yes?”

“Chief asked for you, ma’am.” He’s out of breath and red-faced but still holding his salute; it’s cute.

“What now?” she wonders aloud, more from habit than expectation, but he’s already leaping to answer.

“He said to find you and inform you that he wanted your presence in his office at your convenience, ma’am, and then--.”

“He said _what?”_ She’s already scrambling to finish stowing everything and get the boat resecured. She knows him by now, and the more formal his manners , the shorter his fuse. She tosses the analytics guy the rope and he fumbles but catches it, gamely wrapping it around the cleat. “What happened?! Is he okay? Where’s Ace?”

The guy swallows and looks down, so she crosses her arms and starts tapping her foot. He looks back up at her and mumbles, she makes out, “...came for the log pose last night…” and has a sinking suspicion she knows what happened.

Those two idiots are far too alike, after all.

“What else did he say?” she asks, already heading out the door at a brisk trot.

“He said he was going to have a mild screaming fit and that we should ignore him for a while. Uh, ma’am.”

She doesn’t slow. “How mild?”

He’s still out of breath from running to get her, but is keeping up enough to say, “Not very, ma’am.”

Koala starts to run.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ahaha not dead. thanks so much everyone still reading and putting up with this mess; love ya!
> 
> [Here](https://midnightluck.tumblr.com/post/161074093209/wish-by-spirit-and-if-by-yes-sabo-headcanons) are some headcanons for Sabo in this universe, if you're curious.
> 
> Now with [amazing art](https://midnightluck.tumblr.com/post/163061249038/art-farting-show-me-mercy-more-than-i-can) by rockingthegraveyard!!! It's so beautiful; check it out!
> 
> Next chapter: the rumor come out, does Ace is arrested? and also finally Luffy, I pretty pretty promise.


	6. dumb bros reuniting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Luffy is oblivious but happy, Ace is upset but pleased, Jinbe is confused but sassy, and Sabo is hanging on by his fingernails.

There's a hum of energy just under his skin as he strolls down the corridor, rolling his pipe over and under his wrist in an absent gesture. The stairs should be just ahead, and after that to left, second right, and then-

Before he reaches the stairs, there's a clank and a boom and a bang-bang- _bang_ from a small hall up ahead. He draws himself off to the side, tilts his hat to exactly the right angle, tucks his pipe behind him and waits.

"Stop!" someone screeches down the hall. "Or at least slow the hell down!"

"Shishishi, nope!" says a very familiar voice. "No time to stop now! Ace is waiting!"

Well, that's unexpected. He immediately revises his plans to account for a lot more firepower but also more unpredictability. Still, it's been a long time. He wonders if Luffy will recognize him.

"Hey," he says stepping out of the shadows and catching their attention. "Hey, Strawhat Luffy!"

"Oh, hi Mr. Tophat!" says Luffy, coming to a stop. "Who're you?"

Sabo tilts his hat, ignores the question entirely and says, "You're looking for Ace, right? Can I join you?"

"Of course! Are you his friend, too?"

"Something like that," Sabo says, hiding a smile.

"Strawhat!" someone yells from behind them...and that's Buggy the Clown, unless Sabo misses his guess. "You can't just invite along anyone who asks! What if he's an enemy? What if he's a spy?!"

Luffy ignores the clown entirely. "He's right, you know," Sabo says more out of curiosity than because he thinks Luffy will care. "I am a spy."

"Yeah, see?" says Buggy. "He's-wait, what?"

"Yeah, I'm a spy," Sabo says. Luffy's picking his nose. "But that's just my day job, and I'm here to save Ace."

"Good enough for me!" Luffy says, flicking a booger away. "Let's go!"

...and then he takes off in exactly the wrong direction.

Sabo sighs. It was a fifty-fifty shot and Luffy got it wrong. Sometimes he doesn't know why he missed this child at all.

"This way is faster," he says, tipping his head towards the stairs, and watches as Luffy slingshots himself around.

"Shishishi, thanks!"

"How nostalgic," he says, and follows Luffy to the stairs.

They make it easy enough and waste some time hovering around while Buggy is loud and argumentative. The black den den mushi on Sabo's wrist squawks, and he listens in as the guards finally realize something weird's happening.

Both Luffy and Buggy look over at the noise, and Sabo shrugs. "It'll help us avoid the guards," he points out, and Buggy gives him narrow suspicious eyes.

"Why do you have something like that anyway?" he asks, then shakes his head. "No, you know what, I don't need to know. I'm out! This is a suicide trip!"

"Kay, bye!" Luffy says, and jumps down the stairs instead of walking like a reasonably sane human.

Sabo sighs, grabs his hat and follows.

They gather a few followers because Luffy insists, and with Sabo paying attention to his black den den mushi it's easy enough to avoid most of the troublesome encounters.

It's going remarkably well, honestly, for one of Sabo's plans. For one of Sabo's plans that involves Luffy, it's staying on track scarily well. No one's gotten lost or killed, and they've not even had any really close calls.

Sabo would like to credit his plan, but it was honestly a pretty bad plan. He'd credit luck, but he doesn't have any of that, either, so he's pretty wary when they get all the way to Floor 6 without any major detours. The elevator even works for them.

They find the cell easily enough, though; it's right by the elevator. Sabo can't help the small sigh of relief; even if everything goes wrong at this point, there's nothing here that he and Ace can't handle together.

The rush of relief on seeing Ace almost makes him sway in place; they're not too late, and a giddy kind of joy spirals up his spine. A single Dragon Grip serves to crush the lock on the door, and both occupants look up.

Before Sabo can say anything or even step out of the shadows, though, a red-and-straw streak breezes by.

"AAAAACE!" Luffy screams directly into Ace's face, then smiles widely. "Hi! I'm here to rescue you!"

Once Ace gets over the assault on his eardrums and the way the momentum slammed his head into the wall behind him, he still looks less than happy. "Dammit, Luffy, you shouldn't have come! Geez, what if you'd gotten hurt?!"

Luffy's grin is blinding and only a tiny bit bigger than Ace's frown. Sabo watches them together and can't quite help his smile. "Like I'd let that happen, c'mon," he says, stepping forward. "Gimme some credit here."

"Oh, and now you're here," Ace grumbles, dropping his head back again. "Great. Perfect. Now we're all inside the most secure prison ever, on the most isolated floor in it. Yay."

"If you didn't want us here, you shouldn't've come here either," Sabo says, just to see Ace's eye do that wonderful twitchy thing. But Ace also has bags under his eyes and looks thinner than before, so he takes pity and adds, "You say that like we don't have a plan to get out."

"Do you. Do you really." Ace sounds less than convinced, but when Sabo reaches for his manacled wrists, he stretches the slack out to give Sabo a better angle. "Okay, Luffy, what is your plan to get out?"

"Shishishi, go back up the stairs and steal a ship and leave! Silly Ace!"

Sabo gets the first manacle open with a click and a flourish of his torque wrench. Picking the locks is slower, but he doesn't dare apply that much pressure so near delicate wristbones. He moves on to the second, and Ace grits out, "Yeah, silly me for doubting such a genius plan. Shit. I hate you all."

Luffy launches himself back onto Ace, and Ace catches him and crushes him into a tight one-armed hug, despite his dire mutterings. Ace rips his second wrist free the moment the shackle comes loose, scooping up Luffy entirely, and Sabo moves on to the other person in the cell.

"Jinbe," he greets, his pick dancing over his fingers. "What's a guy like you doing in a place like this?"

"Oh, the usual," Jinbe says, probably identifying Sabo's affiliation if not Sabo himself. "You refuse to fight in a war or two, and, well."

Sabo catches his pick, looks Jinbe over, then nods once. "Sounds about right," he says, and goes ahead and picks Jinbe's shackles, too. Shit's probably gonna go down soon; he'll take all the allies he can get.

He's just started the second when he has to fall and twist to dodge Ace's fist as it comes flying at his head. "What the hell!" he says indignantly. "That's no way to say thank you! I thought someone taught you manners!"

"I left you behind for a reason," Ace growls, Luffy clinging to his back and cheering for a fight. "You were supposed to stay safe and out of it! And then you went and brought Luffy into it, too!"

"Hey, no fair!" Sabo blazes up. He's not ever put Luffy in danger; he has, in fact, always tried to drag him out of it. "You say that like I brought him in here! I was planning a stealth raid until I found him halfway to the second floor!"

"Luffy wouldn't-" Ace stops and Sabo watches the argument process. Ace groans, "Luffy would. You just came here on your own, didn't you, Luffy?"

"Shishishi, yup! Ace was here, so of course I came!"

"See?" Sabo demands, and waits for the hand Ace is bound to offer. When he does drag Sabo up off the ground, Sabo uses the momentum to crush his brother into a hug because that way, Ace can't escape it.

"You left. You got caught," he murmurs accusingly, because really, how dare Ace.

Sabo can just hear Ace's eyeballs rolling, but Ace hugs back. "Not like I meant to," he grumbles, then shoves Sabo away.

"Wow," Luffy says, still clinging to Ace, "you really are Ace's friend! He hugged you and everything!"

Ace freezes, then turns slowly to face Sabo again. "He doesn't…?"

Sabo chuckles a bit nervously, stepping back with both hands up. Of course, both hands are full of sharp metal picks, but it's the idea that counts, right? "We were in a bit of a hurry... In fact, we still are," he continues, and pointedly turns his back to them to finish freeing Jinbe, who's watching them very curiously. "We can deal with this later."

"Or now," Ace says, and Sabo doesn't need to look to know Ace has crossed his arms, Luffy still hanging off his back like a floppy cape.

"Or later," he says, the lock clicking under his picks, and he cracks the shackle open and stashes his picks away.

"Luffy," Ace says implacably, and Sabo is back on his feet and backing away. "Do you know who that is?"

Luffy's staring at him curiously, and it's not that Sabo doesn't intend to tell him, but this isn't really the time. "We really gotta go," he tries, and flits back out the door of the cell, making sure to never give them his back.

"Remember when we were kids and-"

"Incoming!"

Even Jinbe's on his feet as they form up outside the cell. Bon Clay's hopping back and forth on his feet, fingers twisting. "There's voices coming!" he hisses, eyes on the hall as he jabs his finger at the elevator call button.

"C'mon, move," Sabo says, waving them out of the cell. "We're on a deadline, here, people; let's go."

"Yeah, yeah," Ace says, putting his hands under Luffy's legs in a proper piggyback. He gets in the elevator first, then Jinbe and Bon Clay and the rest of Luffy's little group. It's a good thing this elevator was designed for full guard escorts, Sabo thinks, darting in last and hitting the button for the highest floor.

The elevator is slow and ponderous and makes a horrible grinding noise as it rises. "I don't like this," Ace says, stepping up beside Sabo. "It feels like a trap."

"Probably is somehow," Sabo agrees.

"Do we have a plan?"

"Of course," Sabo says, shooting Ace a grin that's only a bit manic. "Keep going anyway."

Ace stares at him for a second, then he sighs and only doesn't shrug because Luffy. "I hate your plans," he says, and the elevator slows to a stop.

It's Jinbe who steps up on Sabo's other side and says, "This isn't our floor."

"Nope," Sabo agrees, swirling his pipe out and ready. "Nor is it our day."

"If you wanted to have a good day, why the hell did you come to Impel Down?" Ace asks, and the doors start to slide open.

"Because my brothers are morons," Sabo shoots back.

Ace slants him a look for that but cocks his fist. "You're the moron," he says instead of a warning, but Sabo's already dropping.

Fire goes roaring over his head and out into the room in front of them. There's a chorus of screams and yells and Sabo steps back to let Ace out first, Luffy dropping off his back to follow.

"He's really pissed," Sabo murmurs. Good, so is he. He heads in as soon as the flames die out. The heat on his face is awful, dry and pressing, and he keeps his breath steady. It's heat, but it's from Ace and it's not gonna hurt him.

It's not gonna hurt him; it's just heat.

He steps up beside Ace, who's smirking happily at the fallen guards. He stomps over to one in particular and kicks him a bit.

"That's for me," Ace cheerfully informs the guy before digging his toe back into that very delicate spot on the stomach. "Because you're a dick, and I hate you."

Luffy cheers and so does the crowd following him. Sabo shakes his head. He taps Ace's shoulder and says, "You done?"

"Why?" Ace cracks his knuckles and then lights one hand. "Are we in a hurry?"

"You were the one who was worried about our escape route closing," Sabo reminds him.

"I wasn't worried about that until _just now_ ," Ace says.

"Hey, you didn't complain this much the last time I rescued you!"

"Yes I did. Is your memory going again or something?"

And the fact that Ace is able to even say that takes Sabo's breath away. He is, he knows, entirely forgiven. Still, it's wreaking hell on his compartmentalization and they can't afford that right now. "Ace! Too soon!"

"Heeeeeeey!" comes Luffy's voice, bouncing down the stairs. "Come on, Ace! Slowpoke!"

They share an exasperated look but start up the stairs anyway. "And don't think I forgot about telling Luffy! Hey, Luffy, wait up!"

"Oh no you don't," Sabo mutters and takes off after him. "No, don't listen, Luffy! Keep going!"

"Shishishi, I like you, Mr. Top Hat! You're funny!"

"I'm funny," Sabo tells Ace pitifully, catching up as they break out onto the next floor. "Did you hear him? He thinks I'm funny."

"Your face is funny," Ace agrees.

Sabo glances over his shoulder to Jinbe, who's thankfully still following them. "Do you think I'm funny?"

Jinbe blinks at both of them, but to his credit, he doesn't slow down. "I couldn't say. Tell a joke?"

Sabo stares at him, aghast, and almost misses his next step. Ace has a sudden and suspicious coughing fit that sounds a lot more like laughter than coughing.

"I'm not telling jokes! We're in the middle of a jailbreak here!"

Jinbe seems to consider this, then asks philosophically, "When better?"

"I like you," Ace tells Jinbe. "You're a good guy."

Sabo opens his mouth to whine again but instead he says, "Trouble," short and sharp. There's yelling and booms ahead of them, up where Luffy is, and they shut up and run.

And, shit, there's the warden himself. All the Army's information on Impel Down had been sketchy at best, but they had thought Magellan's office was somewhere on this floor. It was hard to be sure of architectural features, but it was easier to hear of things such as the warden's Fruit, and he does know that.

"Don't touch him!" Sabo shouts, skidding to a stop. "Luffy! Get back!"

"I got him!" Luffy shouts, and Sabo has a single blinking moment of imagining acid against rubber.

"Luffy!" Ace shouts. "He's mine!"

"No fair!" Luffy yells back, but he doesn't go any closer before Sabo and Ace catch up to him. "I wanted to fight him!"

"Yeah, but I've got a score to settle," Ace explains because, yes, Sabo'd forgotten that Luffy might not get logic, but he did always respect the sanctity of dibs.

"Not to worry," Sabo murmurs, grabbing Luffy's arm and dragging him back another step. "I think we're gonna get a fight of our own anyway."

There's sounds coming from the stairwells, after all, and Sabo spins his pipe one last time. "Ready, Luffy?" he asks, and Jinbe steps up to stand beside them. "We're gonna keep them off of Ace."

"A game!" Luffy says, bouncing once. "Bet I can get more of them than you!"

Sabo's got a cute comment on his tongue but that's when the menagerie comes boiling onto the floor, and he's suddenly too busy fighting to follow through.

There's a lot, but they're relatively weak. Individually they wouldn't be a problem, but this many-well, he hopes Ace is fast.

Ace isn't, though; he's actually shouting, and Sabo spares a glance for him. He's braced low and smoking, but whether that's fire or acid he can't tell. Sabo has no place in a fight between logia, he knows, but he keeps darting his eyes back as he ducks under a blugori's fist or the momentum of his upswing rotates him that way.

The last of the small fry in front of him fall, and a weird giant zebra-like creature wielding a giant mace wades forward through the bodies. It's one of the Jailer Beasts, Sabo knows, and he tightens his grip around his pipe and grins.

A shoulder bumps against his from behind. "Go help Ace," Jinbe says, stepping forward. "I can handle this."

Jinbe's strong and has fishman karate to back him up; even with no water to be found, he's still a force to be reckoned with. It's Sabo who knows Ace, though, so he's the best bet for backup.

He nods and falls back. "Watch Luffy!" he calls and turns and sprints for the other battle.

Ace is, if nothing else, a wonderful distraction and Magellan never sees him coming. His pipe has a seastone coating and the feeling of driving it into Magellan's face is just ever so satisfying.

"Sabo!" Ace yells, and Sabo ducks and pulls away, flinching back hard from the jet of fire that's there and hot and close-it's sudden, and he scrambles back.

He doesn't drop his pipe, though, and when he gets his feet back under him he comes up with an underhand attack, rotating off his back foot and swinging up in a clean arc. Magellan takes it right under the chin and Sabo narrows his eyes. He's probably not used to fighting midrange, then, if he didn't see it coming-Sabo can use that.

There's heat behind him and he ducks under Ace's punch. It explodes fire in Magellan's face and he makes an awful sort of wheeze. Sabo has to catch himself with a hand to the floor but comes up again with the same move from a different angle.

Magellan catches his pipe in one big gloved fist, this time, and grins nastily at him. "This is a fight for logia, brat," he says, and Sabo has to let go of his pipe to get away from the poison in time.

Magellan laughs and tosses it after him. He scrabbles for it, never more thankful for his own gloves than now. It lands closer to the small crowd of remaining guard creatures than to him, but his boots are study and he uses his momentum to slide in, closing his hand around it and looking up into a trap.

There's an army at his back and a dark grin in black poison headed straight for his head and he doesn't even have the breath to swear about it.

He barely has time to duck when he hears Ace yell his name, and then the world goes loud and then everything is fire, it's fire, it's red and hot and heat and close and _fire_ -

-then there's just blur and noise and things giving under his pipe and he's pretty sure his hands are wet, but it's hardly important, there's-there's _threat_ here, threat and heat and orange nightmares and his never-gone scars pull tight against the heat, but there's also precious things that need protecting, and the fire's awful but it's not hurting him, it's _not_ -it's warm and around him and nothing's touching him in the fire vortex, but-but it's also not letting him out, _why not-_

And then this heavy weight slams into Sabo's back and his instinct is to tear-rip-claw-slam- _freeze,_ because he knows that hiccup; he knows those tears and that voice screeching, _"you're not deeeeead!"_

The weight overbalances him and he lets his knees give out. He just kinda falls down, staring at his hands, which are definitely wet. Luffy's draped over his shoulders and back like he was on Ace earlier, bawling at him right in his ear but Sabo's still trying to blink away the afterimages of nightmares.

It's all gone now, though. It's still hot here and a dull kind of flickering red, but it's not as-as _immediate_ , and he can deal. He's fine.

Footsteps draw his attention to Ace's big black boots clomping over, and he looks up. Ace is looking back, cautious and calm, and he says, "Sorry."

Oh, that's not at all right. "For what?" he snaps, and he knows there's a smile like knives on his face, just the same way Ace knows he's dangerous right now.

Ace crouches beside him but doesn't answer, which is good because he hasn't got a reason. He oughtn't be sorry, he shouldn't be apologizing; he shouldn't even _be_ here. _Ace_ was in _Impel Down_ , and for all he'd heard it before, it hadn't quite hit home-Ace had been arrested, was to be _executed_ -

"You can't do this right now," Ace says. "We need your help here, Sabo."

"Sabo," Luffy sobs in his ear. _"Sabo!"_

Right, yes, this-this isn't the time for this. Panic is for after the problem is solved; he can break down later.

And then it's a blur. They run more, he knows they do, and Luffy and Ace are there because their voices mash together in his ears under the ringing. He ought to focus-he's the one with the plan and the escape route, after all, but everything is heat-blurred and spinning, half-real and unnervingly off-center. There's stairs, things go _squish_ under his pipe and his hands are warm with red, warm with no-not with fire-and a hand on his wrist and someone yelling in his ear but it's not-there's still _fire_ and he can't-

The sting of cold salty wind hits his face and he blinks back into himself. His eyes are dry and his lids stick, and his jaw hurts from clenching it.

He looks down but he's in one piece, if more red than he was before, and he's still got his pipe. Ace is there, with Luffy under one arm, looking at him carefully. "You good?" Ace asks.

Is he? He doesn't know. "I was-" he says, and gestures uselessly. "Fire."

"Oh," Ace says, and steps closer. "Sorry, I should've-"

But he's too raw for this right now, so he snaps, "Should've _what_ , Ace? Not used your most powerful tool? Let him hurt you or me or Luffy? What should you have done? No, this is my weakness-"

Rubber arms wrap around him and Luffy crashes into him, just like all those trees from so long ago. " _Sabo_ ," Luffy says, and Sabo has to stop and breathe.

"Luffy," he says back, and turns to put both hands on his little brother's shoulders. "Hey, bro. How've you been?"

Luffy buries his face in Sabo's shirt, and the sounds he's making may or may not be actual words. Sabo slides his hands down around Luffy's back and hugs him for the first time in far too long.

"Shh, Luff," he says, holding him as tightly as his temper. "I missed you too, you know?"

Luffy makes sniffly noises and pulls back enough to say, "I thought you were _deeeaaaad!"_

"I know," Sabo says, "but I'm not. I just got blown up a little, see? I'm not dead."

"Do you promise?" Luffy asks, and he's still crying. "Promise you're not dead!"

"I promise," Sabo says, serious as anything, and pulls him back in.

They stay like that a moment, on the dock of Impel Down, with Luffy in his arms and Ace looking away over the sea in a poor attempt at privacy. It's a perfect moment, and it can't last.

"Hey, Luffy," Sabo says, leaning back just enough to signal Luffy to unwrap his rubber arms. "Hey, we'll have all the time in the world to catch up later, but right now, we gotta get Ace out of here."

"Oh, right! Ace!" Luffy says, whipping his head around. One rubber arm shoots out to wrap around Ace and drag him in. "Look, Ace! It's Sabo!"

"Sure is," Ace agreed, patting Luffy's head, straw hat and all. "Hey, what say we get out of here and then yell at him together?"

"Okay!" Luffy says, one hand clutching each of his brothers.

"Okay," Ace agrees, and then meets Sabo's eyes over his head. "So, how _are_ we getting out of here?"

Sabo looks around, blinking at the size of the crowd just down the way. "Well, none of my plans involved a group this big," he says, but he didn't get his promotion for nothing. If they can't ditch the crowd, then the plan will just have to change.

There's a number of boats at the docks and they're all Marine ships. Huh.

"Sabo," Ace says, eyeing up his manic grin. "I don't like this plan."

"I haven't even told you what it is yet," he protests, already moving towards a reasonably middle-sized caravel.

"It's a bad plan," Ace warns, but he puts his back to the ships and gives Sabo a boost anyway.

"Are we taking this ship?" Luffy asks, and Sabo leans back over the rail and holds out a hand for him. Luffy shoots both arms out and slingshots himself right into Sabo, who catches him on instinct and takes the impact, all the way to the deck.

"Yeah," Sabo wheezes, and he's only managing to sit up when Ace hits the deck beside him. Luffy does not seem inclined to let him go or sit up, or breathe, even.

"I got it," Ace says because he is a traitor who lives to encourage Luffy's madness, and he wanders over to put the gangway down and let the escapees all board. They pile on the ship, and Sabo watches them, arms around his brother and for once not thinking of much at all.

Ace stomps over to them in his big stompy boots and Sabo's arms tighten around Luffy instinctively. Ace pops a squat next to them, though, draping one arm across Luffy's shoulders to keep his balance as he leans in. "How are we gonna get past the gates?" he asks quietly.

Sabo tucks his head into Luffy's shoulder to hide from the light for just a moment and says nothing. Luffy still smells the same, he thinks dizzily; all salt and sweat and something awful and smoky.

"Sabo?" Ace asks, but Sabo has nothing to say.

Then there's another set of feet approaching, light and fast and with an odd, uneven stride. "How are you planning to get the gates open?" someone else asks, and he looks up to see Bon Clay, the okama Luffy befriended.

"It's a Marine ship," Sabo says vaguely because he's trying to lie to Ace less, but he doesn't know this guy. "There'll be some kind of opener on board."

Ace nods agreeably and Luffy finally sits back so he can beam at his friend. "Sabo and Ace are here," he tells Bon Clay. "It'll all be okay now!"

Bon Clay looks down at them and nods. "Okay," he says. "I'll make sure the gates stay open."

Luffy's head swings around. "What?"

"They're controlled by the guard room here," Bon Clay says, "and they know there's an escape attempt right now. They won't open the gates without orders from Magellan."

That's true, and it's also exactly why Sabo has said nothing about it. It's entirely possible this wasn't his best plan ever, but it seems to be working well enough so far.

"I can get them to let you out," Bon Clay says, and his face morphs into that of Magellan. "Leave it to me, Luffy! You get your brother out of here!"

"Don't you wanna come, too?" Luffy asks, finally standing up and freeing Sabo, and Sabo gets up too and pretends he doesn't miss it. He can't help but reach out to lay a hand on Luffy's back, though, just to prove he's really there.

"I don't," the okama says. "I haven't found Okama Paradise yet! There's nowhere I want to be more than right here, looking for it! How will I ever meet Ivankov and achieve my dream if I leave?!"

Luffy smiles that big bright grin that's magic and everything good in the world. "Okay!" he says. "We'll meet again one day! Good luck!"

"Good luck!" Bon Clay wishes back, and then he's walking back off the ship and towards the impenitrable prison, back straight and head held high.

"That's one brave friend you have there," Ace tells Luffy.

Luffy nods. "He's really cool!" he says, and starts to tell a disjointed story, full of sound effects and gestures, and Sabo loses the words in order to watch.

He can only let himself have a moment, though, and then he has to get the ship moving. "Let's go, let's go, let's go!" he calls, turning on his heels and clapping, both to get attention and to hide the tremble in his hands. "C'mon, everybody, let's get this ship moving!"

The ragtag bunch cheers those words and they set to with alacrity, getting the ship pushed off and the sails unfurled. They work together well for a bunch of strangers and misfits, but then, Sabo supposes, they have good reason and a common goal.

Jinbe's taken over as the helmsman and Sabo pauses to watch him. He clearly knows what he's doing, though, which is one less thing for Sabo to worry about as they get underway.

He still wanders, giving out orders and checking over everything, keeping himself as busy as he can, until Ace appears beside him and grabs his wrist. "C'mon," he says, tugging Sabo over to the prow, where Luffy is.

Sabo resists, but only a bit. "The crew-"

"-know what they're doing," Ace promises. "C'mon."

Sabo lets himself be led, and he drapes an arm around Luffy's shoulders as they approach. "Hey," he says, and Luffy beams at him like sunrise. "You okay?"

Luffy laughs. "We saved Ace!" he says, throwing up his arms. " _And_ we found Sabo!"

Sabo leans into his and finds a smile that's not even fake. "Of course," he says. "Didn't we promise we'd meet again on the seas?"

Luffy nods, but his smile fades. "And we'll meet again, too, right? And again and again and again?"

"Of course," Ace says, stepping up to put his hand on top of Luffy's hat. "We promise, Luffy. Don't we?" Sabo nods, and Ace continues. "You'd get in too much trouble if we left you alone, Luffy!"

"Would not! Luffy says, waving his arms. "I have a crew now!"

"Your crew is amazing," Sabo says, because they are, He's kept track, ever since he remembered, and Luffy has warped chance and fate to surround himself with powerhouses who by all accounts adore him.

"They really are," Ace agrees, and Sabo glances at him. There's a story there he'll have to learn later.

"I'll introduce them to you," Luffy promises Sabo, and Sabo grins and nods.

"I'll look forward to it," he says, and Luffy laughs.

Ace is looking at Sabo, though, from the corner of his eye, so Sabo puts on his causal smiling mask and talks himself into taking one hand off Luffy. "Hey," Ace says anyway. "Luffy, will you check and see if there's any food on this ship?"

"Meat!" Luffy says, bouncing in place. "Yeah, I'll check!" And he's off.

There's a moment where he and Ace stand there, the wind on their faces, and Sabo squints through it towards the gates opening ahead of them. "Looks like we made it," he says.

"Thanks to you," Ace says.

"Nah," Sabo denies. "Thanks to luck, really. And also Luffy."

"Liar," Ace says, but it's fond and he tugs at Sabo's wrist.

Sabo tries to grin at him, but he knows it's a pale shadow of his usual smile, and Ace's face draws in with concern. "Are you okay?"

Sabo scoffs and brushes Ace's hand off, immediately missing the warmth and reassurance. "Of course I'm fine."

The look Ace gives him is familiar, and Sabo sighs and echoes Ace's own earlier words. "You can't do this now," he says, gesturing around at the strange ship and the suspicious crew. No matter what kind of strange hold their little brother has over his rescued group, this is still enemy territory as far as Sabo's concerned.

Ace nods, then sighs, getting up himself. He brushes off his shorts and takes off his hat to check the damage and generally tries to make himself as presentable as possible, which isn't very. Then he props his hands on his hips, turns to Sabo and says,"I feel like we're forgetting something."

* * *

Whitebeard stands on the deck of the Moby Dick, tall and steady and serious. "Where is my son?"

Sengoku stares at him from across the silent square and says nothing.

"Give Ace back!" someone bawls, and there's a clamor of voices raising. It's all tempers snapping and chaos on the edge of boiling over.

"Never!" The Marines shout in return, and their perfect ranks shift and roil, just waiting for the first move.

"I warn you," Whitebeard says, cutting across the din. "Return my son."

Someone steps forward onto the platform, and Whitebeard squints into the sun and barely makes out Monkey D. Garp. The vice-admiral draws in a breath and then bellows loudly, "We wouldn't give him up even if we had him!"

Whitebeard blinks. Well. He wasn't expecting that. He'd come here for a fight, after all. He's only barely finished running through implications when Shanks wanders over to him, waving. "Hey, old man," he says. "Wanna fight? Only, I came here for a fight."

He has to laugh at that, so laugh he does. "Guararara! I think it's a time to celebrate instead of fight! Let's drink instead!"

"Wait!" Marco says, pulling himself up on the railing beside them. "But where's Ace, yoi?"

Whitebeard puts a careful hand on his son's back. "Somewhere not here," he says cheerfully, because why shouldn't he be? "So let's go find him."

Marco looks at him a second, then nods. "I've got a call to make," he says, and hops down. Whitebeard can hear him yelling as he goes, "Come on! You heard Pops, yoi! Unfurl the sails; we're heading out!"

"I brought the good sake," Shanks says, wandering fully onto the deck of the Moby Dick. "Let's drink it all!"

Surely the avoiding of a war is a good enough excuse that even his daughters will accept it. "Of course!" he says, and turns to bellow to the fleet of allies that came at his call, "Set sail!"

And the entire fleet of pirates heads out, away from Marineford, without a single blow ever being exchanged.

"No wait!" comes one thready voice from somewhere at the rear. "Come back!"

No one does.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long; Impel Down is awful to write, ugh, but at least I didn't have to deal with Marineford. I miscounted and there will be one more kinda wrap up chapter after this one, which oughtta be much faster. Thanks for sticking around for this ride, and I hope this didn't disappoint!


End file.
